Storytime

She is a puzzle.

It would seem, from her gasps, that my cock is one of the pieces of that puzzle.

By no means is it the only piece, as it slides back out again before I shove it back in.

Beneath me, she gasps at feeling each of my gentle thrusts.

Her hold around me tightens with her arms draped across the back of my neck, and her legs spread and raised so her ankles can link to pull me in deeper.

That link means something. I want your cum.

At least that’s the assumption I’m going with as I don’t think they’ll let me out when that event happens.

I don’t want to be let out. I want her to feel the results of our actions in the warmth wetness of it all.

Damn. That sounds corny.

My cock starts to soften.

The room is mostly dark, save for light fleeing from beneath two lampshades, one on the bedside tables placed either side of the bed. The bed sheets are dark and all other covers have pushed back. The window, to our right, shows city lights flickering behind sideways travelling snow.

Refocusing, I get my mind back on the less corny erotic thoughts.

Her eyes meet mine and she bites her bottom lip.

With the next slow thrust, I bend forward so our lips can meet and introduce our tongues.

Okay…okay…introduce is hyperbole. These two particular tongues already know each other very well.

Not our first rodeo. Not our first wrestling match with the bed linens. She is not a one-time notch in my bed post.

But I still don’t know her name.

And with that, my cock tenses, ready to explode.

Something about the anonymity of it all really works for me. Funny, that. She’s a curvy, greying brunette that enjoys my cock. What more do I need?

Her ankles renew and tighten their lock around me. It seems a safe assumption that she does this after sensing my approaching climax.

I lower for another long kiss, enjoying her mouth as my balls empty inside of her.

No more thrusting, just convulsing until my penis has completed its pleasurable work.

She smiles at me, pulling our foreheads together. “Wow,” is all she can muster.

This was not our first, nor would it be our last coupling. It was, however, the first time she had let me cum in her and “Wow” seemed somewhat anticlimactic.

Likely I was expecting too much.

“Wow, indeed,” says the male voice behind us.

I dismount her and rolled to the side.

The younger man smiles at both of us. “That was something to watch.” He is naked and excited. At least his cock is hard, so the assumption of excitement comes from that.

I stand up and find my clothes where I left them, folded on the dresser to the right of the bed.

The younger man climbs into the bed with her. “My turn,” he hisses and lowers his tongue to her vagina.

She giggles and squirms. Her hand slips through his hair and pulls him harder against her.

The reclaiming has begun. Time for me to go.

I dress and try not to watch.

I want to, though. I would love to watch him reclaim his wife from what I had just done with her. Very symbolic, of course, but it felt taboo and exciting.

However, now dressed, I left the bedroom and let myself out of their apartment.

The elevator ride down is quiet aside from a single melancholy bong to announce my arrival at the lobby.

I walk through the lobby and push the door to the snowy sidewalk outside. I feel so cold as wind whips some of the snow from both sky and ground at me.

As I trudge through the snow and approach my apartment building, my eyes catch the familiar sign of the pub.

I stop and take one look at my apartment building door across the street, and then turn back to look at the Lorca’s Pub.

Dangerous as it is living across from a pub, is there any more appropriate aftercare for a Bull?

I enter and am immediately greeted by Belinda’s smile behind the bar. Her red curls and perky bossom would have made her perfect for the older, misogynistic pub uniforms of yesterday with their short kilts and scoop neck sweaters. However, she still knew to dress herself up to help encourage better tips.

“Hey!” she cries. Autopilot kicks in, causing her hands to find a stein and begin pulling a pint of Millstreet Organic for me. “How’s your night?”

The bar is near empty. Snow kept the regulars away, so it was a good night for quiet.

“Okay, thanks. Yours?” I glanced around as I took one of the bar stools.

Only two other patrons in the place and they were busy making out in one of the back booths.

She looked around. “Too quiet. Though might mean I’m done early.”

“So maybe I get that late night visit we’ve been discussing?”

She smirked and winked at me before setting the pint down in front of me. “Who knows, but I doubt my boyfriend would approve.”

“What he doesn’t know…” I sipped the pint. “Oh, that’s brilliant.”

“How was she?” Belinda asked with, perhaps, a bit too much eagerness.

I laughed. “Story time, is it?”

She grinned and nodded.

My turn to wink. “I still don’t know her name.”

“I don’t know how you do that, but it’s so fucking hot,” she whispered. It wasn’t like there were any other patrons in earshot anyway.

“She said no to the condom this time as well.”

“Sloppy seconds for hubby,” Belinda said with a giggle.

“Are you telling this story, or am I?” I sipped again. “But true enough.”

Belinda squirmed but zipped her mouth.

I grinned. “Once upon a time…”