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Volume IAs a personal anecdote, I think one of the best gifts from Father's Day were given to me by Douglas, Hannah's husband. The story goes like this: a few turns ago, Hannah confessed to me that she was suffering from marital problems. Although Douglas was very happy that every night Hannah would attend to him orally before sleeping, they still maintained the routine of having sex once a day, which filled Hannah with frustration, to the point where she had to masturbate between 3 and 4 times a day, wanting to be possessed by a man and began to worry that she might end up cheating on her husband with someone else, besides me. I suggested that she talk to her husband about her concerns and if needed, take the blue pill (because despite being flat-chested, her celestial eyes and that round butt animate anyone). Surprisingly, Douglas recognized that he had a problem, arguing that his work was very stressful and he would try to please her better. However, his wife's sexual appetite had increased too much for him (he couldn't even satisfy her twice in a row, as she desired) and being the good Englishman that he is, who wants to take charge of the situation but safeguarding his reputation, decided to buy lingerie for his wife instead of following my advice. Nonetheless, despite Hannah's libido having been unleashed, she still remains a modest woman and upon seeing the clothes, with her husband's pervy gaze, considered them too revealing for her taste. Douglas insisted that he had bought them thinking of her and Hannah, taking advantage that the turn was just around the corner, decided to try them out at work to see how they fit and if she liked them, she would wear them on her return. She told me that she never saw her husband so happy when saying goodbye and wishing he would come back soon and asked for my opinion about her new clothes, since I'm impartial most of the time. Therefore, after Dining and while I was cleaning the dishes, she entered the bathroom to change. She asked me to look at her soon because she felt cold and exposed... The vision that awaited me was capable of lifting even the most impotent: her femininity was protected by a thin black triangle, held by a thin black strap and a small bra that barely covered her cups, held by straps just as thin as the previous ones. And if that wasn't enough, she complained that her breast was squeezing her because her husband didn't know her bra size and apparently bought smaller ones, making her look more developed. It's enough to say I took her around the waist, hugged her, and kissed her passionately while those celestial eyes looked at me in awe as I took her to bed. We made love violently, undoing the garment, just like when I'm with my wife and kiss and caress her without letting her undress. Later, I turned her over so she was on top of me and we were kissing wildly, I was affirming her rhythmic backside and shaking my finger through her anus, overflowing her with pleasure. But once again, our passion reached its climax as both of us saw the glow of Hannah's portable, knowing that her husband was still calling her, regardless of how she explained to him that every Monday we played pool games, although the configuration of my fat taco, balls and holes were completely different from what he could imagine. Almost at one o'clock in the morning, we finished exhausted, with her anus dilated and filled with my cum and her clothes freshly worn, stained with liquid remnants of her owner and some semen drops from her lover. In the morning, she woke up hungry and gave me a good suck, imitating my wife's style probably. But that only ended up putting me in the mood to sodomize her while we were showering and it was that the reason why we arrived late to our workstations for the first time. And although there were 2 pairs of clothes left to wear out, when my shift ended on Tuesday, I asked him to give me a break, as I was still recovering from the night before and Father's Day celebration that my wife gave me, which he accepted always provided he let me lick his balls while watching internet, so she could get used to my taste. But analyzing retrospectively, I admit that my decisions were questionable regarding my departure with Lizzie. After leaving the discotheque, I noticed her much more downcast and it was for that reason that I decided to deviate to the hotel. You won't believe... you and I... exclaimed, surprised, when she saw me parking in the luxurious parking lot of the venue. I consider that this was my first mistake, as I didn't want to reveal my true intentions. Please don't think badly of me! I said softly, after parking the vehicle, caressing her cheek with tenderness. No! You would never think something bad about me! she replied, sighing slightly and letting herself be loved. For some reason, it seemed impatient while booking a room for us and thought she needed to go to the bathroom. Unfortunately for me, the woman who attended us that night was the same prudish forty-something who had attended me the other time. I'd like to know the cost of a 2-hour room! I consulted discreetly, so Lizzie wouldn't hear. We're not that kind of hotel! protested the woman, raising her voice and making Lizzie look at us. Okay! I replied, speaking more softly and asking her to be quiet. Just give me a room with a tub and hydromassage and charge it to this card! The magpie was about to give me the same speech she gave me the other time, about tariffs that could exceed our aspirations. However, it seemed familiar or well, given that she slid the card to check the funds. She handed me the card and I could see the moment when she seemed to recognize me, although on this occasion she was wearing more elegant clothes than when I came with my wife and my companion also. The one who did recognize me instantly was the bellhop, who put on tremendous eyes when he saw the femme fatale coming with me. During our trip in the elevator, it became impossible for us to ignore the beauty of Lizzie's figure, since the mirrors in the cubicle left us seeing at least 4 copies of her attractive backside and her deep breaths expanding her chest cavity, while she looked at us smiling and coquettishly, as we were captivated by her attributes. In fact, it was such a game with us that after opening the door, the bellhop slid between him and me and marched into the room, swaying his hips and buttocks sensually, and neither of us could resist watching her until she disappeared. Would the lady like a banana split from the kitchen? asked the servile bellhop, remembering my instructions from the previous time. No. She doesn't eat desserts... I said, giving him the same tip as before. I see! he exclaimed, giving me a sly wink. She'll eat another kind of banana... And I admit that it was my second mistake not having explained to Lizzie that she wasn't a prostitute, but his comment left me perplexed. However, when I entered the bedroom, I found Lizzie very smiling, lying on the bed. I was glad her humor had improved suddenly. Undress! I'll be waiting in the bathroom! I said and she blushed instantly at seeing me unbutton my pants. That was another mistake, because it could also be misinterpreted. But after living with her and Marisol for so long, running around here and there in light skirts and sometimes without underwear; playing with me, giving me furtive kisses, and even entrusting me with household chores like cooking, washing dishes or her clothes, I have learned to know them well and there are moments that, more than seeing them as sensual young girls who seek to warm me up every opportunity they have, I see them like my daughters.
And that's how it turned out: because while Marisol or she could believe that I was looking for a night of fun at the hotel, my plan was to give her a natural salt bath to dissipate the tensions accumulated from taking care of the little ones and their studies.
When she arrived in the bathroom, her walk was nervous and she didn't know what to expect.
Come on, come here! I said, inviting her to get into the tub.
But she was worried that I was without pants and that the last time I tried with Marisol, I ended up completely soaked.
She undressed slowly, not daring to look at me, but beyond the morbidness, she wanted to caress and massage her in a way that can't be achieved during sex and which I learned long ago when Pamela broke her leg.
Even so, I have to admit that seeing her enormous areolas slightly raised, her depilated pussy, and her round ass excited me briefly.
However, seeing her fearful of my intentions returned my paternal aura towards her.
Are you... not going to take a bath? she asked, briefly looking at my boxers.
No! I only want to give you a bath! I replied with a warm smile.
But I already took one before leaving! she pointed out, quite confused.
I know! But I only want to give you a massage to help you lose your tensions...
She smiled mischievously and looked at me suspiciously, but despite everything, she came closer to see what I was proposing.
It was silent and I worried about scrubbing her back with a wet sponge, starting from her shoulders to her torso.
I could notice the results as she went on, given that her exhalations became deeper and deeper.
Perhaps... my moles. She murmured suddenly.
What?
That perhaps... I won't find a guy for my moles. They've always been a problem for me
Why do you say that? I asked, squeezing the foam on her head and she was laughing, at the unexpected and warm rain. 'Because they make me look strange, compared to others.' 'Actually, I think your freckles make you different and I doubt they affect whether or not you know a guy.' She looked at me with quite enthusiasm. 'Do you really believe that?' 'Actually, I know it pretty well.' I replied, since I knew at least 30 men who didn't care if a girl was freckled or not, as long as it implied having a sexual advance. 'But in your case, I went back to your restaurant because of your freckles.' 'Really?' she asked, smiling very happily and briefly covering her breasts with the water mantle. 'Yes! You know: for me, seeing girls with freckles wasn't something so common.' I replied honestly. And she turned back into the water, much happier, comfortable and helped me to open up. Because that's what I discovered when I had to bathe Pamela: if you leave aside the sexual connotation, when a woman lets a man clean her, she is offering him a great test of trust, in the sense that she exposes all her weaknesses that could tempt a man and if one is centered and persevering enough to resist them, he achieves a greater emotional connection than if one let themselves be carried away by instincts and as a consequence, they strengthen much more a relationship. 'Do you think it's very problematic? What am I asking for too much?' she consulted me, while massaging her shoulders about what men demanded of her. 'No, I don't!' I replied, while making foam with shampoo in her hair. 'But many of those things can be achieved by having friends of the opposite sex.' She laughed. 'Well... you're my only male friend.' She commented, much more calmly. 'But what about your classmates or professors? Does no one attract you?' Her face slightly darkened. 'There are some... but none of them would give me a bath, take me to a fine restaurant or introduce me to another country... like you did.' She replied sadly, while She was cleaning one of her arms. And the safest thing is that sex wouldn't even be that good... The sex? I asked, because it's hard for me to believe Lizzie would sleep with someone on the first date. Of course! she confessed, again more nervous. I want to fall in love with someone who will take me every day... who will wake me up in the morning, wet and eager to go to bed with him... who will fill me completely with his semen... who will be tireless... and who at night won't be able to sleep without touching me, thinking about the next morning when we'll make love again. It was likely difficult for her to confess something like that, since she was very red and didn't dare look at me. I would also love it if you found someone who would make you happy! I replied, thoughtful. She put on a radiant face... But sex isn't everything, Lizzie! I added, much more serious. I'd feel better if someone listened to you, understood you and cared more about you. If they were interested in your things and didn't think about it all the time. Of course! she nodded, slowly approaching me and smiling with her eyes. Even, it would be terrible if he only screwed you... What? she asked, startled. Of course! I replied, presenting my vision of things. If someone screws you, they don't love you, because they only wanted to be with you once... but if they 'make love'... And I know, Marisol, that you'll say I'm still being cheesy. But it's what I believe most. Because screwing, fucking and all the synonyms are shorter to write. But making love demands three words and a commitment between two people. It's no longer about a casual encounter or because of affinity in tastes, but something recognized by both parties and everyone laughs at me when I talk about it, but yes, they enjoy it when I do it! Do you? she asked, more interested. If someone makes love to you, it's because that person wants to be with you. I explained. They make love because they're interested in you and want to share more time with you…
She was completely flushed.
“Because I would love to have a boyfriend like you!” she exclaimed, bringing her hands to her cheeks. “You always say nice things… and make me feel special!... and the way you say it… I would love it if someone like you made love to me…”
After saying that, we fell silent again and I continued washing her body with diligence.
At that moment, I felt slightly annoyed because Lizzie seemed not to understand my intentions at all.
The most curious thing happened, however, after finishing washing her: she stood up in all her majesty and looked at me as if waiting for something.
“What's going on?” I asked, while drying her off with the towel.
“Nothing!” she replied, still embarrassed. “It's just... by now... you would be kissing me… or grabbing my breasts.”
I smiled friendly.
“To show that when I'm with you, I don't only think about sex.” I responded, leaving her completely stunned.
After giving her a bathrobe and some privacy to get dressed, I called Marisol on the phone.
“Hello?” she answered, surprisingly energetic for those hours.
“Ruiseñor, it's me!”
“Love, it's you!...” and then there was a slight moan.
I couldn't believe it!
“Marisol, are you touching yourself?” I asked, slightly embarrassed.
“No, love!... How could you think that?... mhm” she responded boldly.
But we've been making love for almost 3 years now and I know her well when she lies: when she was taking exams while we were making love, she would respond with many “mhm” and “ehh”, enjoying it as I penetrated her, and if she had seen me face-to-face, she probably would have blinked slowly.
Besides, a clear buzzing could be heard from her side of the phone.
“Calling to tell you that we're leaving! We're going to the hotel where you and I…”
“Are they at the hotel? Did they request a room?” she consulted, more agitated and with the buzzing intensifying.
“They did! But we're leaving now…”
I could feel her intense gasps. Even I was starting to get hot. 'Why?... Why… mhm… don't they stay… until tomorrow?' I asked, very flushed. I could imagine her lying there in white, in that nightgown she had worn when we parted, touching herself wonderfully with the vibrator I had given her. 'Because I want to come back to you and only you, I gave her a bath!' 'And she... Didn't she... say anything?' she asked, after more intense gasps. 'No! Why? What would she have to tell me?' And what I heard next was quite tangled: at first, it seemed like my wife was going wild touching herself, to the point where the earpiece fell out of her ear. But later, I could clearly hear her speaking something in Japanese and distinctly when she said her sensual 'Baka!' (Which means 'fool') and from what I could discern, it was directed at me. 'Hey, why are you insulting me?' I asked, confused and excited. 'Oh, love... Because that's why I like you so much!... You never realize it!... You make me so happy!... Ahhh!' And while I waited in vain for Marisol to take the earpiece again, I didn't know Lizzie was waiting for me in bed.Next post
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