From pandercom@aol.com Wed Jul 09 15:10:43 1997
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From: pandercom@aol.com (Pandercom)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: STORY: "The Traveling Salesman" (M/F, oral)
Date: 9 Jul 1997 19:10:43 GMT
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Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction which contains consensual
sex,
including heterosexual fellatio and cunnilingus. If you are under 18, or
are
offended by this type of material; or, if you reside in any localle where
this
type of literature is deemed illegal, you are instructed to exit now.
A fully illustrated version of the following story may be found at:
WWW.THE-BROTHEL.COM
which is sponsoring this series of stories. THE-BROTHEL.COM web site
is
100% FREE. There are NO CHARGES WHATSOEVER for the erotic stories and
nude photos that are on the site. THE-BROTHEL.COM hopes that, when you
have finished reading the stories and visiting the web site, you'll
call the toll-free number
1-888-768-3600
Your first five-minutes are FREE!
Now, on to the story!
=======================================================================
"The Traveling Salesman"
(c) 1997 by Pander Communications, pandercom@aol.com
Once upon a time, everybody knew me as the horniest slut in the
middle
class suburb I lived in. I'd have guys lining up three and four deep at my
favorite bar to fuck me or to have me give them blow jobs out in the
parking
lot. Hmmm -- I gave the best blow jobs in town, I did. No particular
reason
for mo lovin lovin': I wasn't an "abused" wife. I don't think I was a
nymphomaniac. I just loved the taste of cum in my mouth, the creamy ooze
of
hot jism dripping down over my tits. The throb of any number of sturdy
cocks
filling my pussy and asshole, pounding in and out, sometimes one, sometime
two, three, four at a time. Didn't matter. I just loved it all.
Then, one day my fucking husband comes home, tells me he's got the
hots for some chick named H____, would I mind finding some other place to
live? Just like that.
Fuck, I took better care of him than I did anyone else. He was my husband,
for Chrissakes! If he wanted his cock sucked while he was watching the
friggin'
football game, there I was on my knees deep throating his meat. Or, I'd
wake
up in the middle of the night and find him riding my asshole, gobs of K-Y
dripping out onto the sheets, making them all slimy. I never complained,
just did an extra load of laundry in the morning.
The second week we were married, he told me to shave my pussy, and ,
I kept it shaved ever since. Then this fucking H____ cunt comes along and
it's "g'bye, girl." Well, fuck him and the horse he rode in on! Moon you,
baby! Closest he'll ever get to this asshole again, asshole!
I grabbed my purse -- the one with the tube of K-Y, the dildo, the
handcuffs (you never know, after all!), and the aerosol can of strawberry
douche -- and headed on out the door. I was lookin' for some lovint', and
this time it was gonna be right for me!
The lounge at the "No-Tell Motel" wasn't one of my usual hangouts,
but I was in the mood for a change, so that's where I headed. I sat
down at the bar and ordered a Margaritta, and it wasn't too long before a
thirtyish, nicely dressed man sat on the stool next to me, offered to buy
me
my next drink. I accepted, and we started talking about ourselves -- all
lies, of course: both his and mine. But, no one was hurt, so what the
fuck!
Of course, one thing led to another, and pretty soon we were both
buck-naked on the bed in his room, which was conveniently located
just a few doors down. We'd just finished fucking (Making love? I dunno --
that's something I'm not too used to: my ex was more into just the
fucking-sucking part of our relationship), and were both lying on our
backs
smoking cigarettes. It may be a cliche, but an after-balling smoke is
simply
great.
The guy I was with was the proverbial traveling salesman, here
today, gone tomorrow. I didn't mind: instant gratification was the
only thing I'd been looking for that night. I hadn't reached that point
yet,
but my new friend certainly had. After the usual tit-play, cock-play, and
cunt-moistening-play, we'd gotten right down to it.
First, I sucked his dick to the point where he was almost ready to
cum. The tease. Then, removing my lips from his cock, I straddled
his thighs, raised up my butt, held my pussy lips open with one hand,
while
I steadied his cock with the other, and sat down on it, taking it deep
into
my cunt. I pushed him gently back and began moving up and down on his
shaft,
impaling myself on its length and girth.
When he seemed about ready to come again, I rolled over on my side,
pulling him over on top of me and reversing our positions. Now on
top, he began pumping his meat into my well-juiced cunt, which, by this
time
was thoroughly lubricated.
We kept this up for what seemed like hours, but for some
reason, I wasn't any closer to an orgasm than I'd been
earlier. Oh well, sometimes it just happens. I liked the guy, though, and
so
decided not to disappoint him.
As soon as I could, I let him know that I wanted to finish what I'd
started earlier. I do give world-class head after all, and was
willing to give him a demonstration. Rolling him again over on his back,
my
mouth attacked his cock, rock-hard and covered with pussy juice. I gave
him
the works: I deep-throated him; my tongue played with his cock-head,
swirling around it and covering it with saliva; I licked his balls, his
crack, even his asshole (I thought he'd go through the ceiling when I did
that -- I'm such a slut!). When he finally came, in a torrent of sperm
that
left me gulping and swallowing what seemed like a gallon of cum, and still
sent streams of the hot, sticky liquid leaking from the corners of my
mouth,
it was as if a volcano had erupted.
So, anyway, there we were: my mouth, throat, and belly were
pleasantly full of cum, we were having our cigarette, and I figured
I might as well leave my friend so that he could get to sleep. I knew the
score.
He surprised the shit outta me, with what he said next.
"I know you didn't cum, and I don't really think that's
fair. You took care of me, now I'm going take care of you."
Jewish people have a word, I'm told, for someone who is an
all-around nice guy: a mensch. That's what this guy was, a mensch.
He was actually concerned for me, not just for himself. It was a new
experience and it opened my eyes for the rest of my life: no more
assholes like my ex and the guys in town. I'd demand respect from
now on, dammit. I'd get it, too.
Anyway, my friend pulled the covers off me, took the cigatette from
my hand,
and put it out in the ashtray next to the bed. He reached down, put a
pillow
under my ass, raised my knees, and spread my legs apart. Then, he put his
head down, and began licking my clit and using his tongue on my cunt lips.
I
began shuddering with pleasure and sensation. His tongue swept up and down
my pleasure-button, probing occasionally into the depths of my pussy,
which
was drenched by now. I could feel the heat rise in my belly, as he
enthusiastically lapped up my juices and went in search for more.
I could feel the pressure building inside me and suddenly it
erupted. Grabbing his head in both my hands, I jammed his face
against my pelvis and my straining and engorged clitoris. It was literally
minutes before I was able to stop shuddering.
His face was absolutely covered in my pussy juices as he looked up
from my cunt with a triumphant little smile on his face. I reached
down to him and pulled his head up to mine. We kissed each other with the
kind of post-passion affection and respect only two satisfied adults can
experience. As our tongues dueled playfully with each other, I could taste
my own juices in him, just as I'm sure he could taste his own cum in my
mouth.
I never saw that traveling salesman again, but that night's
experience gave me the confidence to finally blow that suburb (this
time with a different meaning for "blow") and make my own way in the
world,
using my natural talents and special abilities to seek success.
So, where did I finally wind up? Why, The Brothel, of course! Ten,
twenty, fifty guys a night! I give them what they want, and they
give me what I want. And, the K-Y never drips out of my asshole anymore.
POSTSCRIPT:
My scumbag ex-husband called me at The Brothel the other night,
wanted
me to talk to him. I told him what I was wearing and what I was doing and
who I
was doing it with and who I was doin' it to. The poor piece of dog shit
was
nearly in tears by the time I was finished with him! Seems young H____
didn't take care of him the way I used to. Stuck up little bitch even
insisted on cleaning the cum out of her asshole and cunt before going out
to
work in the morning. What a lame fuckin' douche bag!
I charged him the full rate, too!
Right about now, I'm feeling pretty horny. My nipples are
beginning to itch, and my pussy's getting wet. I'm lying here
desperate to talk to someone who will thrill me and who I can
thrill. I want to make you cum and cum. In my mouth, on my tits,
in my pussy, in my ass. Why don't you call me, and we'll both have
a ball. Remember, it's a toll-free number, and your first
five minutes are FREE!
1-888-768-3600
==========================================================================
======
WWW.THE-BROTHEL.COM
is a completely FREE adult-oriented
web site, containing erotic stories
and photos. There are no "Members Only"
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