Miranda was a lovely woman who was an installation at the company. While technically at my level in the hierarchy, she had been at the firm for over twenty five years. She would joke with me that she graduated from high school the year I was born. Although eighteen years my senior you wouldn’t know she had just crested fifty. In fact, her sinfully long black hair, and voluptuous figure poised so elegantly with martini in hand and delivering professionally evocative glimpses of cleavage and curve would many women half her age jealous with rage. Only a few wrinkles bout the eyes and a look born of wisdom and experience would betray her true age.
I had long been infatuated with her. There had always been the furtive glances, the wry smiles, the subtle bumps at the should and the delicate, temporarily polite touches in the small of the back. Quite honestly, I had always felt that it was I who had been the receiver of the flirtation, always to never consummate a resolution. But this night would be different.
I was just into my sixth martini when our paths crossed. It sounds bad, but we’d been drinking the better part of the afternoon and my temper what at an optimal social luxuriation. We sat on the Veranda, I smoking a hard rolled cigar from my last trip to Mexico, she sitting cross-legged with cosmopolitan in hand. The conversation was witty and fluid. Though I knew her well, I didn’t see her daily, and it was refreshing to catch up. She finished her drink and excused herself to the ladies room. I offered to get her another but she declined, so I proceeded to the bar myself. As the barman’s shaker rattled with ice and gin, Miranda arrived suddenly beside me.
“I think I’m finished for the evening,” she said through soft brown eyes. She leaned in for a quick congenial hug and I felt her put something in the breast pocket of my sport coat. “Don’t make it obvious.” She whispered, and turned away.
I strode back to the group on the veranda, and reclaimed my chair. Casually I glanced in my pocket to the find a note with the number “217” written on it.
Almost forty minutes later (I was very proud of my resilient patience), without having finished my cocktail or been able to commit anything furtive to the veranda conversation, I found myself outside her door. With no one else about, I knocked softly, and she quickly answered.
“I didn’t expect you so quickly,” She said playfully. She wore only the off-white hotel robe, the top of which barely able to contain her chest. I noticed she was also still adorned in her diamond necklace and tennis bracelet. “I was just about to take a shower. Would you like to come in?”
She closed the door behind me, then softly pinned me against the wall in a deep kiss.
“Let’s get you out of those clothes,”
“But I’ve already showered,” I toyed.
“Oh how presumptive,” She shot back. “No, I’m taking a shower, you just get to watch,”
She proceeded to undress me diligently, hanging my sport coat and shirt in the wardrobe, folding my pants and boxers and then laying them beside my shoes at the base. Quickly she let the tips of her fingers graze my cock in a quick, upward motion.
“My, my,” she said. “How quickly you get hard. You must like what you see,”
“Quite,” I replied.
She grabbed my cock as if tugging on a wagon and nonchalantly led me into the bathroom. It was huge, the hotel being a very luxurious affair, a large rectangular room with toilet and shower at opposite ends and a bath and vanity lining the opposite wall between.
“Sit down,” she said, directing me over to the cushioned seat cover of the commode. She sat me down and leaned in, kissing me again. As our lips split, she looked at me and said “Why don’t you go ahead and stroke your cock for me,”
I took a firm hold and she smiled. She turned and casually untied the robe and let it all fall to the floor revealing the bare nakedness of her backside in one glorious motion. She opened the door to the shower, leaned in, and turned the water on. Quickly she glanced back and I immediately started stroking.
“Good boy,” she cooed. While the water warmed, she turned around and grabbed a hair clip from the side of the tub and bound her hair up, all save for a thick ebony lock that curled down around her right cheek.
I have never been particularly attracted to Latino women, but now, seeing the full, beautiful sight of that soft mocha skin, her thick black mound, he dark elegance of her nipples, I couldn’t believe how much I wanted her. I also mused how lovely it was to see her jewelry juxtaposed against that dark skin, glittering in the low light.
She immediately began to lather herself up, her large breasts, slick and wet, her pussy, the small hairs dripping with water. It was a beautiful show, and she played it all for me.
“Keep working that cock, dear,” she said, sliding her sponge between her legs. “I want it really fucking hard when I taste it,”
I stroked my cock. I can’t remember a time when I was harder. I wasn’t in control of this situation at all, and I was loving every minute of it.
She turned around, presenting me her backside, as she slipped the sponge between her ass cheeks. Frothing with soap, she pulled the sponge away with one hand and slid the other inside. I could see the three outside fingers of her right hand cup her ass as the fourth pushed inside her hole.
“Have to make sure everything is clean,” she quipped, glancing back at me. She smiled and withdrew her finger, and placed the sponge back on the soap dish. From the same location, she picked up a small bottle of shampoo. It was the sort which stood upside down, with a smooth tapering shape that ended in a rounded, slightly oblong tip.
“This is a lovely shampoo,” she said, positioning her back against the corner opposite the shower head and dropped to a squatting position. “It does nothing for my split ends,” she noted, pointing the tip between her legs and rubbing it against the soap lathered forest of her pussy. “But it does fill me up in the most delightfully unusual way…”
With that she closed her eyes and slid the tip between her lips and into her. She moaned softly. I began to fondle my balls with my free hand.
“Oh that’s nice, baby,” she said, stealing a glance at me. I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
She slowly pushed the bottle in and out of her, using it’s girth as a surrogate cock. She played with her clit. Her hips rocked slowly with the motion of the violation.
“Do I look pretty?” She asked with a groan.
“Oh…my dear,” I said gripping my cock with such force that the tip turned a dark purple. “You look positively gorgeous…it’s everything I can do to keep from coming…”
“Mmmmm…” she moaned in satisfaction. “Well please don’t do that, I really want to taste your cum, so I do hope you can wait,”
With that she whimpered, bit her lip, and let a short, sharp scream escape her lips that was followed by a quick succession of heavy panting. Her legs quivered, and she withdrew the bottler from her crotch.
“Oh my…” she noted. “That is much better.”
She washed the bottle off and placed it back on the tray. She slowly spun around in the cascading water, eradicating the last of the bubbles from her skin.
“I’ll tell you,” she bgan. “That I’ve been positively bursty to cum since my massage after lunch.”
“So that’s where ran off to during the strategic planning meeting,” I said. She smiled wickedly.
“It was incredible, but an absolute torture, that woman’s hands all over my body, rubbing, caressing…and all the while my libido building to a fever pitch. God that was a wonderful release. Do keep stroking that cock…”
I had stopped, the thought of a young maseusse gently attending to every inch of her body, but I quickly started again, looking at her mouth, absolutely requiring, to know what it would feel like inside it…
Miranda stepped out of the shower, the water still running, and grabbed a towel. She proceeded to lightly sponge the water from her body.
“Shouldn’t you turn off the water?”
“Well, I was rather expecting I’d have a filthy, sticky mess all over my face and chest in the next few minutes. I’d prefer the water be warm so I can jump right back in.”
I was speechless. She smiled and walked over to the vanity. She applied a deep red lipstick. Turning to me again, she folded her towel in fourths and dropped it on the floor between my legs. Kneeling on it, Miranda gingerly took my hands in hers and pulled them away from my cock.
“Why don’t I take over,” she said through that dark lipstick.
Her pretty, slender, although slightly wrinkled hands moved about my cock lightly, exploring. Finally she gripped it in full and opened her mouth to take it in. Those dark lips embraced my head. I felt her warm tongue slide down the soft underbelly of my manhood. She was so deliciously warm.
“Oh my,” she said, withdrawing momentarily. “You are positively seeping with cum. I fear this may not last very long. I do hope you are prepared to cum for me more than once tonight.”
“I am your’s to abuse,” I reply, desperate to get her to continue with her cocksucking.
“Lovely,” she replied and buried my cock in her throat.
Her head bobbed, her hair still bound by the clip, that little lock of hair bouncing about, as she attacked my cock. She didn’t just suck it, she didn’t just swallow it, she attacked it. He saliva dripped from her chin and coated my balls. I felt nothing but warm wetness the entire length of my shaft.
She was magnificent. Through it all though, I knew it really wasn’t about me. I could have been any man with a cock to her right now. She wanted to suck, not to please me, but to please herself. I don’t believe I’d ever before been the absolute tool of a woman’s desire. It was marvelous.
Just when I thought I was done for, she stopped, and addressed my balls. The horrid tease! My cock was so purple with blood as if it were something not of flesh. She consumed my sack and me eyes caught hers. He hand looked so small gripping my shaft. I don’t believe I’d ever been so big before!
Then, mercifully, she began to stroke.
“There we go baby, give it to me,”
Her motion grew more furtive. My hands clenched the sides of the toilet.
“There we go, baby…cum on me…cum in my mouth baby…make me filthy…cover me in your cream….”
She stroked harder. Her lips parted again, and the moment they against touched my head the thing hit me with the force of a collision. The first surge plunged completely into her mouth. She immediately pulled away, and pushed her chin up, allowing the second, third, and fourth to explode across her neck and chest.
“Mmmmmm…baby…” she said, thick globs of semen still using from my tip with her pumping hand, dripping down across her tightly gripped fingers. “Oh my god, baby…it has been a while, hasn’t it?”
In truth it had. I’d been very busy lately, and hadn’t even taken care of myself in the better part of three weeks. I looked down at her, my seed glistening across her cleavage, smattered in her necklace, dripping from her chin. Miranda smiled, released my cock, and licked the fluid from her fingers seductively, staring me down all the while. Then she and leaned forward, lifting her cum soaked breasts, and wrapped them around my slightly deflated cock.
“Mmmmm…” she cooed using my cum as the lubrication in the titty-fuck. “Mmmm, that was a good boy. You certainly don’t disappoint. I haven’t had a man dirty me up like that before. But I do hope you’re not done, I’m just getting started.”
Miranda released me from the grip of her breasts. She held it gingerly again and licked at it, cleaning it, and then stood back up. She strode elegantly back to the shower where she rinsed again, and again stepped out to towel off.
I did little more than sit there. The orgasm had completely incapacitated me. I couldn’t remember a time a blowjob had left me so breathless.