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Volume II decided to revisit the last entries from that part of my life, as another new cycle is about to begin. My new job contrasts too much with the previous one, because I went from an environment where 95% was composed of rough and rowdy miners to one where women exceed 70%. And since this office handles customer service, administration, finance, acquisitions, human resources, and other aspects like that, most of it is good. Women can be just as uninhibited as men in groups, because without much restraint they've told me during morning chats over coffee that they find me a Dilf or a Father they'd like to screw, something that could be reported as sexual harassment if it weren't for the fact that it came from the lips of the Human Resources Administrator, who has had her eye on me since I arrived. And not only that: every time I ask for a favor, I can spend more than 5 interminable minutes chatting about trivialities unrelated to work (emotional and romantic aspects, seeking advice, etc.), so I've had to rely more and more on my secretary Gloria, who also sees me in a maternal and protective way, just like Sonia and Hannah did in the past. However, what I want to tell you today happened at the end of November or early December last year, a little before Christmas and our eventual move to another city. At that time, I was constantly going to my wife's and daughters' favorite toy store, trying to get the 2 ponies that Verito insisted on asking Santa for. Unfortunately, due to the dates and Black Friday, the stock of those dolls ran out and to avoid the daily pilgrimage I was making, one of the saleswomen took pity on me and added me to WhatsApp, so she could notify me when new merchandise arrived. Although at first molested my female coworkers, and the next day, the four saleswomen had added me to their contacts and were informing me daily whether my order had arrived or not. Eventually, I received favorable news and went to the shopping mall early in the morning. However, upon entering, I found a local television channel's truck where they were filming a report, and if it weren't for the annoying scream of an individual who seemed like a dark-haired Scorcese-type, I wouldn't have paid attention. It was an unpleasant spectacle. The man had a deep and resonant voice, and both the cameraman and the thin journalist were only nodding their heads. Where is your spirit? What's wrong with you? You're still so bland and boring! It's Christmas and you're as calm as a Sunday morning! Didn't you have breakfast? Do you need a sandwich? he scolded in a mocking tone. Come on, don't be like that! We still have time to edit it! the cameraman begged. Don't talk to me! she replied curtly. You know very well that this will air tonight and don't think I didn't hear you through the headphones. Now, leave me alone! The cameraman tried to console the anchorwoman. Relax! She's like that because she got upset with her boyfriend! he encouraged in a conciliatory tone, while the failed Scorcese-type was sipping coffee, chatting on his cell phone. Ann? I finally asked incredulously... Her shoulders tensed and her slender figure slowly rotated, illuminating her elegant face with a warm smile. Marco? I invited him to a coffee and pastry, and from the other end of the café, none of the toy sellers seemed to find it amusing that I was walking with a beautiful woman who wasn't Marisol. In fact, even the barista who brought us our drinks and desserts didn't seem too happy to see me so well accompanied, considering she always came with Marisol for chocolate malts. Do you know... responsibilities of a married man? I replied, delighted by her face.
She still maintained that elegance and distinction that women like her knew how to wear well.
If I could describe her in one word, I would say that Ann is Petite. That is, her physical development was not fully developed and neither her breasts nor her buttocks were as attractive within current standards.
However, Ann has a charming face: beautiful brown eyes with a slightly worn look and lively, which studied everything and did not tolerate nonsense; fine lips, fierce and passionate when kissing, but mordant and defiant during conversation; thin cheeks with rosy cheekbones that gave her tenderness and elegance; a long oval face similar to an almond in shape, which brought warmth and fineness; and finally, short hair with a color between caramel and honey, which gave her modernity and spark.
About a year ago, Marisol had set me up on a blind date with her since Ann's former boyfriend had left her just before Christmas.
But what I found that afternoon, apart from a fiery volcano of passion and desire, was a singular beauty with an elegant and refined personality and proper manners, typical of aristocratic beauty, with a challenging and mordant character, which made me doubt that she had marked an impression on me...
At the end, you never called me again... she commented, looking at me with a certain mischief, while cutting a thin slice of her dessert.
Ah, don't be like that! Remember I'm a father, married and with responsibilities! I replied, intimidated by her.
It's okay! It's okay! she replied, laughing more. I just say we had a good time... and I would have loved to repeat it...
Finally, I could read in her eyes how eager she was and being honest, so was I, because I was wearing the jacket of the channel where I worked, a green shirt and skirt, and high heels that were rekindling my dormant sexual fantasies about She... But I had to maintain certain dignity and stuck to the role of responsible and disinterested father, which I was playing. She told me that she had secured a professional practice in the channel and they were testing her for a permanent contract. That was her second report, the first one being months ago where she had to interview a gas station vendor who had been assaulted by an armed man with an axe and her research was so outlandish that the network decided to prepare it for their lineup.
The only problem is that I've been terrible for my social relationships... she commented, with a sorrowful look, after wiping her beautiful lips with her coffee. I haven't had time for anything or anyone in all these months... and now, just when I've completed a year since I left Shawn, my coordinator asks me to have a festive spirit, can you imagine?
But the way she said it wasn't that she was melancholic. Rather, she was hot and I could see her teasing me to see if I would take the bait.
Well, I don't know. But don't you get nervous in front of the camera? Her face lit up with a timid smile.
What do you mean? It's not my first time... But... Don't you think about the people who are watching from the other side of the screen? She made a modest face.
No, I've already talked to my parents and they're fine. They feel proud to see me and it no longer worries me. She said courteously.
But... What about strangers? Don't you think about them? I insisted with enthusiasm.
No, I've already told you that it's not my first time. She replied, slightly annoyed.
I know!... but... Can't you imagine that... of the thousands of people who are watching you... probably your future partner is looking at you? She looked at me without understanding and I took advantage to express the fantasy that was growing inside me.
It's just that if Marisol appeared on TV every night, I wouldn't believe it... and I would be telling all my colleagues that that beautiful girl is my... wife... and if she gave me a signal... you know... a smile... a gesture... or something special on the screen... that told me how hot it was for me... I would do anything for her...
That confession made me daydream and bring out my true libidinous smile hidden beneath my mask.
On her part, saying I would do anything sparked her curiosity, and we were already looking at each other in harmony.
'Would you like... to see the inside of the truck?' she asked, with enthusiasm that seemed to overflow from her body.
We rushed out, but moderately. It was a fact for both of us that we would have sex there, but we couldn't lose our composure.
After closing the doors, she showed me the monitors, but I didn't let her explain because I kissed her wildly, pressing her body against the console.
And as I explained to Marisol, I'm not in doubt that Ann will become a prestigious and recognized journalist and the idea of knowing that the journalist who discusses the repercussions in North Korea after Trump's presidential election victory is the same girl who behaves with you like the biggest whore and doesn't stop sucking you until leaving you completely dry, must be something that changes your perspective on foreign policy or how one sees news broadcasts.
That's why I started working her over and what stood out most to me was that Ann wore semi-transparent panties, which made her legs look even more beautiful and at the same time confirmed her self-imposed celibacy with a nearly invisible barrier.
Apart from her slight humidity, some dark guys could be appreciated, exacerbating the wonderful aroma of hot and youthful women. I'm not saying Marisol doesn't smell that way when I attend to her, but I admit that I enjoyed a different scent.
I lifted her skirt, went down on her desperately, and she finally enjoyed the attention of a man and my thoughts, in those moments, were progressing with each lick... Because later... giving her pleasure, I would ask her to fulfill my fantasy, giving me a spectacular blowjob, where I would force her to swallow it all, so she wouldn't stain with my ejaculation. After that, I would let her do her report and take her to a motel, where I would surely penetrate her without a condom (I was so hot and convinced of her celibacy that I was sure she would accept) and then after leaving her well filled, I would ask her to give me the greatest pleasure a woman can give: taking away the virginity of her Booty, which she would accept more than happily...
But as they say, The man proposes...
Yes!... Like this!... Don't stop!... No! she was enjoying herself, supporting her pelvis and rubbing it against my mouth with perfidy, while my tongue infiltrated those humid and juicy recesses, when the door of the truck opened...
Ann, Duncan is asking... the cameraman managed to say before being petrified at seeing his companion riding the mouth of a stranger.
Ahhh!... Ahhh!... What... do you want? she brayed, enraged but still satisfying herself.
D-D-Duncan... Duncan wants... to try again... the cameraman stammered, nodding and shaking his head as Ann rode me.
Devils! she replied, having another small and energetic orgasm. Can't he... wait 20 minutes?
No!... He says we have to edit...
Curses! she protested once more, convulsing violently on my face.
She was exhausted and moderately satisfied, but Ann, like me, prioritizes responsibilities over pleasure.
We looked briefly into each other's eyes and smiled. It was clear that we couldn't continue after...
I helped her get dressed as best I could and wiped some of the juices off my face. However, the cameraman was still staring absently at how she was re-adjusting her underwear and pants, without even blinking.
He was a 25-year-old guy, not very robust, with a hipster beard, showing his bachelorhood (if he had a girlfriend, he wouldn't be so... un disheveled guy...), with glasses, who reminded me a bit of Kevin Smith.
I grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him out.
'Come on, buddy, invite her to go out!' I said, reading his mind. 'That girl is desperate for good sex and I can't satisfy her (I showed my wedding ring). Take advantage of what I couldn't do...'
And I left him to process the ideas. I went straight to the bathroom, washed my face, and tried to cool down my erection as much as possible.
Later, I walked to the store, where the 4 saleswomen, with their arms crossed, made me pay full price for my purchases, unlike other times when they gave me a 7% discount. And by the time I left, the TV truck had already driven away.
When I got home, I told my wife what had happened and we anxiously waited for the evening news.
Our breath was cut off when they announced the report, and just as 'the failed Scorcese' had said, Ann looked disinterested at first.
However, during the narration of the report (which dealt with the rise in prices due to dates), Ann's voice sounded more altered and furious, contrasting with the calm and tranquil tone at the beginning.
But when I lost hope that they would give a conclusion to such an erratic report, Ann appeared once again, in front of the North Haven doors.
She didn't look like the relaxed girl from the beginning of the report. Instead, she seemed upset and tense, but still maintained her professionalism.
And just as I had to end the report, she smiled slightly with that malice and playfulness that makes every man's imagination run wild and knew it was dedicated to someone in particular.Next post
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