My Sexual Odyssey Part V: A Real Whore - Sex Stories

My Sexual Odyssey Part V: A Real Whore

... believe that we did so much fucking in so short a period of time. However, the sensation of hot cum running out of my gaping ass and down my legs was convincing evidence that we did a lot. After it was all over and I regained my equilibrium, I kissed Brad so-long, changed clothes, and exited the truck. The feeling was one of “What happened?” in that there was no time to really savor the experience, talk, recover, or anything else; just fuck and go. While there was certainly something exciting about it all, it was also fundamentally unsatisfying. It also had an air of unreality about it. I went back to work, ran into the bathroom, and cleaned up as best I could, then returned to work, still reeling over what had happened. Returning to the mundane world of work seemed all the more surreal. I decided right then and there that this was not going to work for me on a day-to-day basis. I resolved to call Brad when I returned home that evening, in order to inform him of my decision. Later that night I did precisely that, during the course of which I suggested we re-experience the passion of the night we met at the hotel bar for our first encounter. Brad quickly agreed, and we set the date for the coming Friday. I was relieved that he agreed so quickly, given that he seemed to enjoy the weird “dating” we had been experiencing. As Friday rolled around, I looked forward to our date with eager anticipation. I wore my sexiest little black dress, black hose and black fuck-me pumps. I ...

... arrived early, sat at a table near the bar, and was enjoying a drink when Brad called and told me he had to work late and couldn’t make it. I was crushed, but said nothing to that effect. So great, here I was, all dressed up, but with some place to go yet no one to “go” with. I just sat there and sipped my drink, wondering what to do next, when a nicely dressed businessman cautiously approached and asked if he could buy me a drink. I suppose there aren’t that many opening lines a man can use in a cocktail lounge, and everyone knows it’s just a cover for asking if you can sit and try to pick someone up. Not having anything else to do, and feeling disappointed at having been stood up, I relented, and invited him to sit down. The predictable exchange ensued, but as he was polite and attractive I was not displeased. He mentioned that he was in town for a business meeting, and would be returning home the following day. He wore no ring, and said nothing to suggest he was married or involved. I wondered why, given that he was obviously successful and handsome. Anyway, he continued to flirt, and I wondered when he was going to make a move. He touched my hand a couple of times, then my back as I rose to go to the bathroom. I wondered if he knew I was a CD, but when I returned, I asked what kind of women he liked, to which he responded, “Special ladies, like yourself.” So, that answered both questions: did he know? (yes), and why was he single? (he had difficulty finding what he wanted). I ...