Flavia arrived at the transfer stop (we call it combi in our area, Gran Buenos Aires), as always with scarce minutes of anticipation. But that day the transportation took an unusual time to arrive.
- What's strange, since I've been traveling on this combi, never has it been delayed so much - I commented.
- Certainly. Today, coincidentally, marks one year since I started traveling at this hour and I don't remember a delay like this - she confirmed.
- Does that mean we have a year of traveling together in the morning? Did you keep track for something in particular?
- Nothing to do with it. I started working at my current study the day after my mother's birthday, which was yesterday. That's why I know -
The chat continued until the vehicle arrived, revolving around daily travels and other topics that don't matter here. Finally, we boarded and, as there were no free double seats available, we sat separately.
I thought she, besides being nice and cleverly conversational, was a beautiful architect. Not to praise nature but with all her feminine attributes well developed: over 1.70 meters tall, light brown hair, honey-colored eyes, delicate facial features, breast, booty, and legs between 7 and 9 points. She easily and frequently sparks fantasies. To be honest, I had crazy desires for her. I wanted to have her close but hadn't found a way to approach the objective until then.
That day, when my seatmate got off at mid-trip, I felt a more intense desire than ever to have her near.
Since on one of our daily commutes, without wanting to, I overheard Flavia dictating her cell phone number to a telephonic interlocutor: -......anotá 15 4xxx 1112......- and it had been easy for me to memorize it since the prefix was the same as my wife's (4xxx) with two consecutive numbers, I sent her a text message:
...don't you want to come to my side...Juan
After some minutes without response, I called her:
- Did you receive my message? - I whispered via cell.
- Who Are you? –
The one who has been traveling with you every morning for a year now. Am I the only one in a double seat three rows behind you. Come on then-
Seconds later, smiling, he sat down beside me:
- What a crazy guy!! How do you know my phone? - he wanted to know.
I told him.
After a short and insignificant exchange, I jumped into the pool (assuming it probably had water, considering how often we shared a corner in the waiting room and a seat on the bus, I was convinced she sympathized with me. In the worst case, if it bounced back, I wouldn't get out too badly):
- Flavia, what do you think? Should we go out to eat and celebrate our first anniversary? -
She pierced her honey-colored pupils into my eyes, held my gaze for a long time, and responded:
- Aren't you married? What would your wife think if she knew what you're proposing to me? My husband would definitely not applaud -
- Neither of them has to know. In fact, they don't work in the capital. There's no possibility of a chance encounter -
- I have some news for you: I have everything I need at home with my husband -
- Don't lower the blinds, whether it's sensible or whatever, to occasions that might be pleasant and put themselves within your reach from time to time. Life is short and the trains you let pass can't be taken back, even if you regret having left them go -
- You're a pirate and a scoundrel!!! -
She got off at her stop, arrived at her destination, without accepting but without refusing either, with determination. I thought I still had some room to maneuver. Around 11:00 am, I called her again on the cell phone. Her responses to my persistence evolved from I told you not to,...,it's not prudent,... ,...,...just lunch! Ehh!!,...,agreed at La Robla. Do you know it? It's in Viamonte at 1600.
I knew it. It's about 6 blocks away from the hotel, Buenos Aires accommodation. Far enough to walk, too close to take a taxi. I decided that if I could convince her, we would go. at the Osiris hotel in Puerto Madero. During the entire lunch, our jaws moved almost in unison, slowly, and our eyes fixed on each other's eyes, both lost in thought, prisoners of voluptuous desire difficult to conceal. They brought the dessert menu. Half-hidden behind the paper, with only our eyes above the top edge, I took her hand in mine, and gave voice to my desire: - Flavia, do you have time? – - I don't have anything urgent waiting for me at the study. Why? – - To leave sense behind and indulge in a few minutes of solitude, letting ourselves be carried away by nature – She left the menu on the table. - If you were my wife, I'd kill you!!!! – - What a coincidence, darling, I also want to kill you. Let's kill each other with kisses, caresses, and whatever happens spontaneously - - ¡Juaaaan!!!! What did you decide? – The back-and-forth continued for long minutes. As the protests and rejection of the proposal passed, they lost vehemence and conviction. Finally, I realized I could give her an opening to conclude: - Flavia, shall we go, and you decide what's yes or no? Okay?- Not before taking her time, with her eyes jumping, in a circular motion, from mine to the table and then to the ceiling, she accepted, without words, the invitation, only with a slight nod of her head. We discarded the desserts, after the payment process with card that seemed interminable, we left the street, almost precipitously, stopped the first taxi that took an eternity to make its way through the city to leave us at the hotel entrance, theater of the third act of that unforgettable day: the intimacy corollary of the crescendo of passion, initiated during the morning's side-by-side journey and carried to the limit of what was manageable without contact, skin to skin, during lunch. The receptionist once assigned the room, offered condoms. Flavia, under my inquisitive gaze, made signs as if I should buy them. In the elevator she whispered that it was the prudent thing although she Taking birth control. They remained unused. As soon as the door to the room was closed, lips searched for lips and we didn't separate until the culmination of the first screw of the afternoon.
Despite having respected what I had proposed to myself: treating her with absolute delicacy and respect for her times, the preludes were extremely brief to the point that no more than 15 minutes after closing the door, I settled between her legs and, without any preamble except an endless kiss, my ejaculation invaded her fiery cave. She sighed... Complacent? Later I found out she wasn't. I started taking it slowly with gentle movements, pumping without pause, after one or two minutes of fixed gaze at a distant point and passivity, Flavia shook off the perplexity and got caught up in the experience. From then on, I began to enjoy the indecipherable pleasure of her response with sensual movements as I penetrated her. Initially, she only emitted sweet sighs accompanying each of my entries, listening to my whispered flatteries in her ear until she started exteriorizing, with soft moans, monosyllables, truncated phrases, her pleasure: ¡Siiiiiii…asiiiii Juaaannn!... ¡Por favor no pares….... ¡Uhhhyyyy como te sientoooo!..” “¡Me llenás todaaaa!!”... ¡Mi Diosss que ricooooo!!…. Until I entered the final stretch, she had come a couple of times. My orgasm, with ejaculation in her vagina, Flavia redoubled her pubic movements, gestures, and sounds of pleasure. Superimposed on mine, it was as if we were saying, the ecstasy we experienced.
I recovered my breath and pulse. I turned my gaze and discovered that Flavia had tears-filled eyes. I caressed one of her cheeks:
- You shouldn't be doing this... Mario doesn't deserve it... - she murmured without looking at me.
- With the first kisses, I abandoned myself to desire but when you felt inside me, I became aware of the barbarity of the canaille I was committing... and the worst is that it lasted little blame...I gave myself to you and the pleasure you made me feel...I can't believe it...ended several times....flower of slut, your travel companion..
It cost me a while to make him leave behind the remorse. Little by little I managed it and we sat down to chat, embracing long minutes, interchanging caresses and kisses in the dialogue.
After several minutes, not many, I convinced her that we should shower together: a symphony of mutual wet caresses. From there, there was no other exit but the second afternoon sex.
Just like on the first one, in this second excursion to the cave of my friend, there were no more preliminaries than passionate but conventional kisses. We both wanted to have sex without delaying in erotic games beforehand. And we did. Three times in the two-hour shift.
It was past 6:00 pm when we got on the bus. It was the first time we had traveled together back home. On the over an hour-long trip, I recovered my strength and, knowing it wouldn't work out, whispered to her ear that we should get off at a nearby hotel accommodation close to our homes.
She refused, first with a disapproving face, then smiling.
The next day, in the stop and on the way, it became clear there would be another opportunity:
- Flavia, when are we going to make another return trip together? –
- I don't know. Don't even mention it. If I think about it with my feet on the ground, I'll tell you never. –
Already seated, side by side in the bus, I took her hand and asked again:
- You're not still thinking with your feet on the ground...When do we make a rematch? –
- I told you I don't know……some day….perhaps. -
That day arrived. Well, actually several did.
- What's strange, since I've been traveling on this combi, never has it been delayed so much - I commented.
- Certainly. Today, coincidentally, marks one year since I started traveling at this hour and I don't remember a delay like this - she confirmed.
- Does that mean we have a year of traveling together in the morning? Did you keep track for something in particular?
- Nothing to do with it. I started working at my current study the day after my mother's birthday, which was yesterday. That's why I know -
The chat continued until the vehicle arrived, revolving around daily travels and other topics that don't matter here. Finally, we boarded and, as there were no free double seats available, we sat separately.
I thought she, besides being nice and cleverly conversational, was a beautiful architect. Not to praise nature but with all her feminine attributes well developed: over 1.70 meters tall, light brown hair, honey-colored eyes, delicate facial features, breast, booty, and legs between 7 and 9 points. She easily and frequently sparks fantasies. To be honest, I had crazy desires for her. I wanted to have her close but hadn't found a way to approach the objective until then.
That day, when my seatmate got off at mid-trip, I felt a more intense desire than ever to have her near.
Since on one of our daily commutes, without wanting to, I overheard Flavia dictating her cell phone number to a telephonic interlocutor: -......anotá 15 4xxx 1112......- and it had been easy for me to memorize it since the prefix was the same as my wife's (4xxx) with two consecutive numbers, I sent her a text message:
...don't you want to come to my side...Juan
After some minutes without response, I called her:
- Did you receive my message? - I whispered via cell.
- Who Are you? –
The one who has been traveling with you every morning for a year now. Am I the only one in a double seat three rows behind you. Come on then-
Seconds later, smiling, he sat down beside me:
- What a crazy guy!! How do you know my phone? - he wanted to know.
I told him.
After a short and insignificant exchange, I jumped into the pool (assuming it probably had water, considering how often we shared a corner in the waiting room and a seat on the bus, I was convinced she sympathized with me. In the worst case, if it bounced back, I wouldn't get out too badly):
- Flavia, what do you think? Should we go out to eat and celebrate our first anniversary? -
She pierced her honey-colored pupils into my eyes, held my gaze for a long time, and responded:
- Aren't you married? What would your wife think if she knew what you're proposing to me? My husband would definitely not applaud -
- Neither of them has to know. In fact, they don't work in the capital. There's no possibility of a chance encounter -
- I have some news for you: I have everything I need at home with my husband -
- Don't lower the blinds, whether it's sensible or whatever, to occasions that might be pleasant and put themselves within your reach from time to time. Life is short and the trains you let pass can't be taken back, even if you regret having left them go -
- You're a pirate and a scoundrel!!! -
She got off at her stop, arrived at her destination, without accepting but without refusing either, with determination. I thought I still had some room to maneuver. Around 11:00 am, I called her again on the cell phone. Her responses to my persistence evolved from I told you not to,...,it's not prudent,... ,...,...just lunch! Ehh!!,...,agreed at La Robla. Do you know it? It's in Viamonte at 1600.
I knew it. It's about 6 blocks away from the hotel, Buenos Aires accommodation. Far enough to walk, too close to take a taxi. I decided that if I could convince her, we would go. at the Osiris hotel in Puerto Madero. During the entire lunch, our jaws moved almost in unison, slowly, and our eyes fixed on each other's eyes, both lost in thought, prisoners of voluptuous desire difficult to conceal. They brought the dessert menu. Half-hidden behind the paper, with only our eyes above the top edge, I took her hand in mine, and gave voice to my desire: - Flavia, do you have time? – - I don't have anything urgent waiting for me at the study. Why? – - To leave sense behind and indulge in a few minutes of solitude, letting ourselves be carried away by nature – She left the menu on the table. - If you were my wife, I'd kill you!!!! – - What a coincidence, darling, I also want to kill you. Let's kill each other with kisses, caresses, and whatever happens spontaneously - - ¡Juaaaan!!!! What did you decide? – The back-and-forth continued for long minutes. As the protests and rejection of the proposal passed, they lost vehemence and conviction. Finally, I realized I could give her an opening to conclude: - Flavia, shall we go, and you decide what's yes or no? Okay?- Not before taking her time, with her eyes jumping, in a circular motion, from mine to the table and then to the ceiling, she accepted, without words, the invitation, only with a slight nod of her head. We discarded the desserts, after the payment process with card that seemed interminable, we left the street, almost precipitously, stopped the first taxi that took an eternity to make its way through the city to leave us at the hotel entrance, theater of the third act of that unforgettable day: the intimacy corollary of the crescendo of passion, initiated during the morning's side-by-side journey and carried to the limit of what was manageable without contact, skin to skin, during lunch. The receptionist once assigned the room, offered condoms. Flavia, under my inquisitive gaze, made signs as if I should buy them. In the elevator she whispered that it was the prudent thing although she Taking birth control. They remained unused. As soon as the door to the room was closed, lips searched for lips and we didn't separate until the culmination of the first screw of the afternoon.
Despite having respected what I had proposed to myself: treating her with absolute delicacy and respect for her times, the preludes were extremely brief to the point that no more than 15 minutes after closing the door, I settled between her legs and, without any preamble except an endless kiss, my ejaculation invaded her fiery cave. She sighed... Complacent? Later I found out she wasn't. I started taking it slowly with gentle movements, pumping without pause, after one or two minutes of fixed gaze at a distant point and passivity, Flavia shook off the perplexity and got caught up in the experience. From then on, I began to enjoy the indecipherable pleasure of her response with sensual movements as I penetrated her. Initially, she only emitted sweet sighs accompanying each of my entries, listening to my whispered flatteries in her ear until she started exteriorizing, with soft moans, monosyllables, truncated phrases, her pleasure: ¡Siiiiiii…asiiiii Juaaannn!... ¡Por favor no pares….... ¡Uhhhyyyy como te sientoooo!..” “¡Me llenás todaaaa!!”... ¡Mi Diosss que ricooooo!!…. Until I entered the final stretch, she had come a couple of times. My orgasm, with ejaculation in her vagina, Flavia redoubled her pubic movements, gestures, and sounds of pleasure. Superimposed on mine, it was as if we were saying, the ecstasy we experienced.
I recovered my breath and pulse. I turned my gaze and discovered that Flavia had tears-filled eyes. I caressed one of her cheeks:
- You shouldn't be doing this... Mario doesn't deserve it... - she murmured without looking at me.
- With the first kisses, I abandoned myself to desire but when you felt inside me, I became aware of the barbarity of the canaille I was committing... and the worst is that it lasted little blame...I gave myself to you and the pleasure you made me feel...I can't believe it...ended several times....flower of slut, your travel companion..
It cost me a while to make him leave behind the remorse. Little by little I managed it and we sat down to chat, embracing long minutes, interchanging caresses and kisses in the dialogue.
After several minutes, not many, I convinced her that we should shower together: a symphony of mutual wet caresses. From there, there was no other exit but the second afternoon sex.
Just like on the first one, in this second excursion to the cave of my friend, there were no more preliminaries than passionate but conventional kisses. We both wanted to have sex without delaying in erotic games beforehand. And we did. Three times in the two-hour shift.
It was past 6:00 pm when we got on the bus. It was the first time we had traveled together back home. On the over an hour-long trip, I recovered my strength and, knowing it wouldn't work out, whispered to her ear that we should get off at a nearby hotel accommodation close to our homes.
She refused, first with a disapproving face, then smiling.
The next day, in the stop and on the way, it became clear there would be another opportunity:
- Flavia, when are we going to make another return trip together? –
- I don't know. Don't even mention it. If I think about it with my feet on the ground, I'll tell you never. –
Already seated, side by side in the bus, I took her hand and asked again:
- You're not still thinking with your feet on the ground...When do we make a rematch? –
- I told you I don't know……some day….perhaps. -
That day arrived. Well, actually several did.
1 comentários - A year of travels. Celebrating