The Room Service Girl – fellatio anilingus anal sex

In a small community, in this case, 60,000 people, where you have lived for a long time, using a dating site and focusing on your exact geographic area inevitably means that you meet people you Know. It’s quite natural – you’re all there for the same thing and there’s nothing to worry about, as long as your profile is tasteful and decent.

That’s how I see it, anyway, but different personalities see it in different ways. I know a guy, for example, whose eye-catching pickup line on such a site was, “I don’t want a relationship, I just want to screw you up.”

And it worked, too. I know, because I had an appointment with a woman who had recently met him despite – or perhaps because of – this terribly frank statement. She was, it seemed to me, still grimacing from the encounter, but she did not say bad things about him. Maybe it was just a box she wanted to check, and after reaching it, she had moved, or returned to her natural path.

But it’s in the past. In my relatively tame world, I had already found myself on my knees in a conversation before realizing who I was with Mr. Nice Guy. Friendly had led to flirting before suddenly, she put two and two together and got me. She was a friend’s ex-wife, and although everyone was branded crazy during a divorce, I believed what he had told me about her.

But I didn’t like him. I had found her attractive several years earlier, but she had let go and was then bloated, alcoholic and unattractive. I would have fucked her once if we hadn’t known each other, but under the circumstances, I knew it could have been mean, so I apologized and struggled.

Soon after, however, I was lucky on a girl I had known twenty years earlier, when I was a budding rock star of thirty years, stumbled upon difficult times and worked as a waiter in a posh hotel, and she was a service girl of room not long out of school. And roly-poly even at this tender age, with a ireable smile.

We were admonishfrom and exchanged the strange chatter when our paths crossed, but she was so young and so round that I was too cool to tell even my closest colleague that I had fantasies about young Jessica.

I got my life back on track and I moved out and I rarely thought about it again, and yet when I came back and started looking for internet help to get my rocks, she was there, swimming in the same pool. I loved her immediately – her sunny personality shone through even in the small typed exchanges that are your only barometer, and she seemed to love me. She seemed so friendly and safe that I soon agreed to exchange photos, and there was short, young, around Jessica. Still short, now with some life experience, even rounder, but now irresistible because my reserves had been swept away by the years.

It was now perfectly reasonable to establish a relationship with her, and she felt the same way.

We met in the budget restaurant of a once good hotel on the edge of town. I was early as usual and was sitting at the table looking at the door when she broke in, over dressed in a silver satin dress that she could have bought for a wedding.

She was beaming, of course, because that’s her default setting, and I radiated back because she just made it feel like everything was fine. It was a human antidepressant.

I got up and we kissed eagerly and clumsily across the table. It could have turned into a kiss and degenerated into a scene and an arrest, but eventually we managed to calm down and we got through the meal with just the occasional hand and half-standing cross table kiss.

When we left, I immediately threw her against the parking wall and we kissed like Adam and Eve, unable to believe our good fortune that we had been given the gift of sex.

We spent ten minutes there, tongues plummeting the depths of each other’s mouth and hands on each other, even though she drew the line to the intra-underwear activity.

With Jess having to go home because of the kids and babysitters, we made our way to the taxi rank, stopping at every practical tree and alley to kiss a little more.

It was probably as good as we couldn’t go to bed together that night, because I would have sperm as soon as I got inside her. We arranged for her to come to my house on Friday night.

“Just one thing, though,” she said shyly. “Those will be my rules.”

“We’re going to fix something,” I said bravely and she instantly reneged.

For two days we exchanged excited texts that I had trouble keeping on the right side explicit, while she peppered hers with smileys, full of hearts for the eyes and tongue sly lolling.

When Friday night came I pushed a glass of Sauvignon Blanc into his hand and we sat on the couch, putting our glasses aside and rolling around, all on top of each other. Within two minutes, we were both naked and she was sucking on my straining, out of control.

Suddenly she stopped and went heap.

“We’d better calm down or it’ll be over too soon,” she said, the girl I had fantasized about having learned a few things in the years that followed passionate adventures, marriage and divorce.

“Okay,” I said, “and I tore my brains out for conversation.” “I used to think about doing things with you,” I said. But I didn’t dare.”

“I was legal,” she protested.

“Yes, but I was so much older,” I said. He would have looked bad. Management would not have liked it.

“Management wouldn’t have known,” she says patiently. “The management wouldn’t have seen me do that…” and she tipped over and sucked me again.

“Have you imagined doing things with me?” I asked, my hand between his legs, making toy with the string of his Tampax.

“In my mind,” she replied, stroking my dick, “you have taught me everything.” She made a meal of the last word, leaving me no doubt about the potential there for unfettered carnal enjoyment.

“So who had the pleasure of being the first?” I asked.

“Well,” she replied, naming my best friend at the hotel, a young Scot much closer to her age and a very nice guy.

“Well,” said I, “really glad that it was a decent man who deflowered her.” “Now, are we going to go upstairs?”

Jess looked at me dubiously.

“And we can calm down in comfort,” I added, “and she sighed with relief.”

We climbed the short steep staircase, which led directly into the only room up there, my room. He was relatively tidy in his honour.

We lay down on the bed and kissed again, always eager and passionate, before I started a tour of his body. I kissed her neck and she wriggled with pleasure.

“Oh, that’s my favorite,” she laughs.

When my mouth lit up on her breasts, she hugged them, offering them to me.

“Suck them hard,” she urged. When I forced her, she writhed with pleasure. As I sucked, my right hand was stroking her side, then made her way down to her crotch and found her clitoris.

“Okay, but remember,” she said quietly. “Roadworks.”

I stroked her inner thighs and thought about how good it would be to slide up and down with my hips. Then I made a decision.

“Turn around,” I said quickly. She turned immediately, without a doubt.

I kissed Jess’s buttocks and slipped my tongue between them. She lifted her knees to give me full access to her, and I licked her there, gently but firmly, fortunately.

“Do you like it?” I asked.

“It’s very nice,” she says. I said, “Why?”

“Some people find it too perverse,” I explained.

“I’m pretty perverse, actually,” she said. “Keep doing that. Please.

She was breathing in short, staccato bursts as the thrill of my tongue in her took over her senses and normal processes as lung function took a back seat.

Jess allowed me to lick her for a few nice minutes before she broke the precious intimate silence.

“Do you like anal?”

“Yes,” I murmured. “I’d love to.”

“In my bag,” she said. “On the chair.” We had brought everything upstairs with us: clothes, phones, bags, underwear.

I searched her bag until I found a tube of KY jelly, which I thought was what she meant. I waved her before her eyes as she lay in a rimming-induced trance and nodded.

Before applying it, however, I needed one last taste of its little creased hole. I licked it slowly and with love.

“God, you really like it, don’t you?”

I thought about licking your for twenty years, I told him, and it was true. From time to time I had thought about what I had missed with the girl in the frumpy brown uniform. And every time he’d finished with me licking his. Now I had had this great privilege and she had no idea what it meant to me.

I poured jelly around his hole and stuffed my middle finger into it. It was sweet and warm and welcoming. I slipped my finger as far as I could and she moaned.

“Yes,” she said breathlessly. “Go — and go.”

I sprayed jelly on the head of my dick and stepped behind it. I jestwithd with her for a short while, sliding up and down the slide run from her lower back to her vagina.

Then I pressed his head against his hole and felt it grow quickly and suck me. Jess groaned invitingly and I started to get in and out, inside and out. In all the fantasies I had enjoyed about him for so many years, I had never had my cock in his ass, but we were here, doing it, and it was beautiful. I dived up and down inside her and she seemed to hold her breath before suddenly convulsing with ecstasy as she came, collapsing on the carpets as her cavity let go of my rod.

I took a handkerchief from the box next to the bed and wiped my dick because it was too slippery to control my foreskin. Having gained some traction, I masturbated urgently, but shortly before the cum pulled out of me and landed in its crack. I grumpy and slipped my thumb up her, taking some with her.

“Fantastic,” she whistled. “Lovely man. You have no idea…” But I did, because it was kind of a dream come true for me too.

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The room service girl