1 comments/ 30184 views/ 1 favorites Don't Fall In By: oggbashan ********************************** Copyright Oggbashan November 2003 The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons. Edited July 2006 ********************************** I should have known that I was out of my depth. Brian had more sense. He chickened out of the challenge but I had too much male pride and I was overconfident. Surely if two women could do it I could manage just as well. Now I owe my life to their competence and skill. Humiliated? Yes I am. Grateful? Yes, that too. Have I learned a lesson? Yes. Was I an idiot? Yes. It all started, as many disastrous ideas do, in a bar. We were in the students' union bar of our local university where we were meeting after an evening class. The four of us, me Donald, Brian, Maureen and Sarah were discussing what we would do at the Autumn half term. We had a half term because we were adult education students on a local history course. The genuine students around us didn't have a half term. Brian and I said we hadn't got anything planned because we would be at work. That brought protests from Maureen and Sarah. They worked too but we wouldn't have any homework for the weekend. Why weren't we doing anything? Weren't we adventurous? Brian suspected a possible trap and kept his mouth shut. I wasn't so careful. It wasn't that I had drunk too much. I was halfway through my first small glass of lager. "So what are you doing," I asked, "that will be adventurous?" "We are going hill walking," replied Maureen. "Why don't you join us?" "Not me." Brian said emphatically. "At this time of year I like to be warm and dry. It is too cold for hill walking." "It's not cold if you are wearing the correct clothing," Maureen objected. "Come on, can't you accept a challenge?" "Yes," said Brian, "but I know when I am out of my depth. I can walk. I can climb hills. I can't stand getting really cold. Even the prospect of a weekend away with you two isn't going to tempt me to do something I wouldn't enjoy and would probably regret." "What about you, Donald? Surely you wouldn't let us helpless females go out on the hills alone?" Maureen was teasing me. She had already accused me of being a male chauvinist because I had suggested that backpacking alone through SE Asia was not a good idea for single women. I had actually said "people on their own" but she talked me into a corner and forced me to admit that I thought it was even more dangerous for women than men. Sarah joined in. She put her hand on my arm. "Donald, please. I'd like you to come." That was unfair. Sarah knew that I was attracted to her. So far she had turned down several invitations from me to meet away from the evening class. Now she was offering a whole weekend with her. I turned my head to look at her. That was another mistake. She was smiling at me with slightly parted lips. Her dark brown hair fell either side of her face. Her brown eyes were looking straight into mine. Like any other infatuated male would, I fell for the appeal in her eyes. "OK. If you want me to come, I will. I don't know what I am letting myself into but I am willing to try. You know what you are doing. I don't. You know that I will be the one who will need looking after. I expect that you will have me panting along well behind you..." "...if you are, you'll get a good view of Sarah's legs, won't you?" said Maureen. "They'll be an incentive for you to keep up with us." Sarah aimed a mock-slap at Maureen. "Maureen, can I help it if he's fallen for my charm? I think he likes me. He'll find out this weekend what I'm really like, won't he?" "I think you have been set up, Donald," Brian added. "I'm glad I'm out of it. Good Luck. You'll need it." By the end of the evening Maureen and Sarah had scribbled down a list of things that I should bring. I agreed to be the driver because I have a four wheel drive vehicle. I would pick them up at six o'clock on Friday evening. The drive to the hills would take about half an hour if the weather and traffic were kind. We would walk to a barn that belongs to Maureen's aunt, sleep there overnight and start hill walking in the morning. By Friday evening I was worried. I had tried to get the things on the list but I wasn't happy with the quality or durability of some of the kit. I was used to walking in summer and the weather forecast threatened some sleet and more rain. I envied stay at home Brian. A weekend with Sarah could have too high a price. I loaded my borrowed backpack in the car and collected Maureen, then Sarah. As we drove out of town a light rain started falling. At this time of year it had been dark before I finished work so I hoped we didn't have to go far from the car before stopping for the night. They might know what they were doing and where they were going. I had no idea. As we started to climb into the hills the rain got heavier and there were a few ominous snowflakes in it. Just before we reached the farm where we would leave the car the rain had turned to sleet with a stiff breeze. Sarah directed me to park the car in an open-fronted shed next to a tractor. Maureen went to tell the farmer that we were there and where we were going which is the normal procedure for winter walking in the hills. If we weren't back when we said we would be he would call out the rescue services. I heaved the heavy pack on my back and struggled with the plastic cagoule that was the only fully waterproof clothing I had. Sarah had to help fit it over my backpack. She looked much better equipped. Her backpack was waterproof and her jacket and trousers were designed for extreme weather. When Maureen returned she prepared herself very quickly. Maureen led the way with a torch. We left the farmyard and turned into a metalled track that led uphill. Even after a hundred yards I was sweating inside my cagoule and my face was frozen from the sleet. Half a mile later the track became a narrow footpath. I was stumbling in the girls' wake because my cheap boots were new and weren't broken in. I heard running water ahead. Maureen stopped. When I caught up with them she said: "Donald. This bridge is slippery. I'll go over first and shine the torch for you. You come next and then Sarah. OK?" "Yes," I said. Even that one word was an effort. I was out of condition not having walked for a couple of months and that pack was heavy. Maureen walked carefully across the plank bridge. I could hear the running water but I could barely see it, not because it was a long way below the bridge, it wasn't, but because there was a mist above the stream. Halfway across, following Maureen's torch, my foot caught on something on the bridge. I raised it but my pack overbalanced me. I fell backwards with a splash into the stream. The water wasn't deep but was running fast. I tried to get up. My cagoule was full of water and my pack was dragging me down. My head went under several times as I struggled to free myself. I thought I was drowning. In desperation I pulled the scout knife from my belt and slashed through the cagoule several times. Then I could get the pack off. The shredded cagoule vanished downstream. I grabbed the pack and waded carefully to Maureen's side of the stream. I passed the pack up to her and then dragged myself up the bank. I was soaked through. I had swallowed a lot of stream water. I rolled over with my head hanging over the bank and retched water. When I stood up my legs collapsed under me. I was shivering uncontrollably and disorientated. What happened next I had to rebuild from what Sarah and Maureen told me. They had dropped their packs and rushed to the stream banks as soon as I fell in. They knew how dangerous a hill stream could be. I vanished under the water and downstream. They found me from the noises I was making as I gasped for breath when my head was above water. They couldn't go into the stream to help me because they are lighter and smaller. In the current they would have been even more as at risk than me. When Maureen's torchlight picked me out I had just shed my cagoule and pack and was struggling to stand up. She shouted at me to come to her because the bank was lower on her side. I don't remember that. I turned back to collect my pack. She thought the stream had knocked me down again but I calmly passed her the pack saying: "Take this, please, Maureen," She nearly cried with vexation as I started to search for the remains of my cagoule. When I climbed out she thought I was reasonably OK but then I retched out the water. She shouted for Sarah who collected her pack and crossed the bridge. By the time Sarah reached us I tried to stand up and then fell flat. I was as white as a sheet and babbling nonsense. My shivering was frightening. They had a hurried conversation. They had to get me warm and dry soon. The barn we had been aiming for was too far away. We could have reached it in a quarter of an hour's walk but I couldn't walk and they couldn't carry me that far. What should they do? Sarah thought of the overhang about fifty yards upstream. It would be sheltered from the wind. If they could make a fire... They dragged me the fifty yards. Sarah pushed me into the small overhang. It isn't deep enough to be a cave. From front to back is about four feet deep. Side to side it is about ten feet. Sarah made a windbreak with a groundsheet while Maureen collected all three packs and searched for wood. Sarah knew she had to take my wet clothes off and get me dry. She opened my pack but everything inside was soaking wet. She did find the camping gas cooker and started it until the fire could be built. Sarah didn't know what to do about my clothing. She asked Maureen for ideas. They couldn't use their dry clothing because none of it would fit me. My sleeping bag was a dripping mess. They stripped me naked, dried me as best they could and tried to put me in Sarah's sleeping bag. I thrashed about too much. Sarah had an idea. She used old tights to keep her things together in her pack. Originally she had used her own laddered tights but they didn't last long. Her grandmother had given her a pile of leftover tights from the little shop she used to run. Those tights were thicker and enormous which explained why they hadn't sold. Sarah had found them ideal as bags. Sarah emptied out some of pairs of tights. The two of them stuffed my legs in one leg of the tights. They tied another pair around my waist and then used the ends to tie my hands to my waist. They stuffed my head and torso in the second leg of the first pair of tights. I was still struggling so they tied around my ankles, knees and tied around my body trapping my elbows. I slid easily into the sleeping bag as a nylon-sheathed parcel. They left me under the shelter of the overhang while they gathered enough wood for a fire to last all night. Because the ground was sodden and any wood lying on it was wet they had to break dead branches off the trees. It took them half an hour to build a reflector fire. They made the overhang more weatherproof with two groundsheets and prepared some soup and stew. I was still shivering inside Sarah's bag. She took my scout knife and carefully slit through the nylon over my mouth. Propping me against her she fed me soup. Maureen tried to dry some of my clothes. She had to wring them out before spreading them near the fire. They steamed as the water in them got warmer but it would have taken hours for even one vest to dry. I was still shivering uncontrollably. "This isn't going to work," said Sarah. "He's still very cold, none of his clothes are dry and we are a long way from anywhere warm. What do we do?" "Is there room in that sleeping bag with him?" asked Maureen. "I suppose so. For what?" "For you. You could get in there with him. You will warm him up and get warm yourself. If you don't you could get cold too and then I'd have two problems, not one." "But I don't know him that well," Sarah protested. "I wanted to get to know him this weekend. I've never even kissed him." "Did you want to?" "Well, yes – I suppose I did. That's different. I would be cuddling his naked body against mine. I didn't expect that." "If you don't he could die. If you do – you'll know him better. And he isn't naked. He is bundled up in your granny's tights. HE can't do anything. You could, if you wanted to, Sarah. You have an ideal opportunity. You have a man tied up and virtually naked. Some girls would give a lot for the chance you've got. He's only here because you fluttered your eyes at him. He doesn't deserve to die just because he fancied you, does he?" "Damn you, Maureen. You are making me feel guilty." "You should be. You wanted to humiliate him and show him how much better we are than he is. He knew that before we started out. You only made him sound like a male chauvinist. He isn't. He's a nice man who likes you." Sarah stripped to her bra and panties and with Maureen's help she got into the sleeping bag with me. I remember the warmth of her body as she edged her way down mine. She remembers how cold I was. Maureen zipped up the bag. It was a tight fit and Sarah was as much a prisoner in that bag as I was. She couldn't get at the zip. I soon warmed up enough to stop shivering and drop off to sleep. Sarah's head was on my shoulder and her bra covered breast pressed against my side. I woke in the morning feeling almost normal. Sarah was still asleep against my shoulder. I was aware of the nylon over my face. I tried to move and found the bonds tying my arms and feet. "What the..." I started to say. "Good morning, Donald," said Maureen. "Slept well?" "Yes. But why am I tied up and why is Sarah in here with me?" Maureen told me about my soaking last night and the scare they had. Sarah was still asleep as we talked. My clothes were scattered around with some still drying. "Sarah saved your life. Wasn't that good of her?" "Yes. I'm grateful to her, and to you, but how do I get out?" "You don't until she's woken up. She needs her sleep, just as you needed yours. I'm off to get some water for breakfast. I'll be back in a few minutes. Sarah will probably wake up when she smells frying." Maureen left us. I tried to wriggle. Sarah wriggled back and said "Mmm." Despite myself I could feel an erection. Sarah's warm soft body was next to mine except for a thin layer of nylon. She wriggled in her sleep and I was in trouble. Her pussy was across my erect tool. I tried to hold it back. I might as well have tried to stop the tide. Her eyes opened. "Hello, Donald. How are you?" "Alive and well, thanks to you, Sarah." "Good." Her eyes closed again and she moved closer to my insistent erection. "Sarah?" Her eyes opened again. "Could you move a little, please?" "Why?" "You are right over..." "Oh yes. So I am. That's nice." She pushed her body against mine. "Sarah!" I was nearly screaming. "Yes, Donald?" "Please? I can't hold back if you stay there." "Can't you? How unfortunate. Does that mean you fancy me?" "Yes, Sarah. I admit it. I fancy you. I want you. I can't move and if you don't there will be a wet patch between us and you, you might get pregnant." I said this as calmly as I could. I wasn't calm. I was desperate. "I heard that," said Maureen. "So, Sarah, what are you going to do. You can't tease poor Donald like that. Do you want to get pregnant?" "There's no chance of that. I'm on the pill and although he hasn't noticed yet I fitted a condom on him last night. Will you pass me his knife please, Maureen?" "Knife? What for?" "I need to cut him free." "OK. Here it is, Sarah." "Thank you." Sarah moved down inside the bag. I thought she was going to cut the bonds holding my arms and hands. Instead she pulled at the nylon covering my erection and slashed across it. My eyes opened wide in surprise. Sarah moved up again and pushed the knife out of the sleeping bag. She gave a contented sigh as she pushed herself down on my erection. "SARAH!" I yelled. "Shut up and enjoy," she said pressing a hand over my mouth. I rolled my eyes towards Maureen for help. She grinned at me and walked over to the stove. Sarah pumped up and down on me. I looked down at her smiling face and lost myself in her. My brain was concentrated inside her. Soon, too soon, I came into her clutching pussy. As I relaxed she removed her hand from my mouth. "That is my way of saying 'Good Morning, Donald'. Do you like it?" "Yes, Sarah. Much better than other ways." "Good. Maureen? Could you let me out now? I'd like some breakfast." Maureen unzipped the bag to let Sarah out. She made a production of climbing over me, brushing her damp pussy over my mouth. Her panties were in her hand as she stood up. She pulled them up and settled them before getting dressed. They didn't let me out of the bag. Sarah had fed me breakfast and they checked to see whether my clothes were dry. Sarah said they weren't and climbed back in the bag to ride me again. This time I could control myself. Maureen went to get more firewood while Sarah squealed every time she had an orgasm. I was getting tired and sore when Sarah smothered my nose and mouth with her panties. That produced the result she wanted. I got dressed with Sarah's help. I was still weak and wobbly. Was it the soaking and the cold or Sarah that made me feel so exhausted? I don't know. We packed everything and walked the short distance to the barn that had been our goal last night. The weather stayed dry until shortly after our arrival and then it poured. We stayed in the barn all day. It had a wood burning stove so all my clothes, my sleeping bag, and my backpack were dry before it became dark. That night Sarah and I shared my sleeping bag. It had more room inside but she and Maureen tied me up with the tights before Sarah got in. This time I consented. I went to sleep sheathed in nylon and Sarah. The next day we actually did some hill walking in weak watery sunshine. Late afternoon we walked back to the farm where we had left the car. When I dropped Maureen at her flat she came round to the driver's window and gave me a kiss. "Was accepting our dare worth it?" she asked. "Yes, Maureen. Thank you." "Hands off, Maureen," said Sarah from beside me. "He's mine. I saved his life so he isn't getting away from me easily." "OK. Just remember who helped you. You owe me a favour. I want Brian and I don't think we'll persuade him to take a winter holiday." Maureen eventually got Brian. That is another story but I'm not telling it now. Sarah has tied me up again. Don't Fall In Love (Author's Note: This story was inspired by the movie Strangers with Linda Fiorentino. Also, for those interested, I'm working on the final chapter of Backfires, but not sure when it will be done. Finally, this is a cuckold story involving a conflicted husband and wife – if that's not your thing, you won't enjoy reading this.) Don't Fall in Love Chapter 1 The bartender flirts with me as she serves up my beer. She's maybe 25, a little on the chubby side, but cute. I know I could pick her up if I wanted. That's why I'm here at this bar, for a no commitment one-night stand. But there are prettier girls floating around this meat market, so I nod thanks to the bartender and give her a ten for the $6 beer, and then look away, making it clear I'm not interested. I see a few pretty college girls look my way. I'm pretty good looking, so usually it's not hard for me to pick up girls. But they don't strike my interest. I don't know why I'm being so selective tonight. I'm between girlfriends and I haven't got laid in a couple weeks, so I'm just looking for a fun loving girl who wants a fun romp in the bed. I'm starting to reconsider the cute bartender when a blonde slides into the stool next to me. I give her a quick up and down. Pretty face, blonde hair over her shoulders, wearing a classy designer outfit that shows a lot of leg. Her legs are pretty amazing. Long and slim and shapely. She's older than me – early 40s maybe? I'm only 25, just graduated from law school and studying for the bar exam. She's a looker, that's for sure. She doesn't look my way. In fact, she looks distracted. She's not wearing a wedding ring, so she's probably waiting for her boyfriend. There's no way a girl as pretty as her doesn't have a boyfriend. Still, I give it a shot. She's worth it, very pretty, even though she looks flat chested. I'm a leg man anyway, and boy does she have great legs. I finish my beer and call over the chummy bartender. "Another Corona," I say to her. Then I catch the pretty blonde's eye. "Can I get you something?" The blonde looks down her nose at me, like she's bored and knows she's out of my league. Probably she gets hit on all the time. Then she looks AT me. At my face, a quick look at my chest. Like I said, I'm pretty good looking. She gives a little "whatever" shrug, and then says "A chardonnay, please." "Are you here alone?" I ask as the bartender leaves, looking disappointed. The blonde gives me a tired "is that your best pickup line" look. "Would I be letting you buy me a drink if I was with someone?" I smile. Okay, she's busting my chops, but I've always been attracted to that bitchy attitude. I try to look innocent. "Sorry, I don't usually talk to strange girls in bars." The irony of my reply gets to her, and she smiles. The fact is, I'm a player, and this blonde probably recognized me as a player the moment she laid eyes on me. Like I said, she's a pretty girl, and her smile makes her even prettier. She's got one of those smiles that make you want to do nice things for her, to get her to smile. But the smile quickly disappears and she looks the other way, distracted again. I steal a closer look at her left hand and see a thin tan line around her ring finger. Okay, I get it now. She's recently divorced, and she came here out of loneliness, or maybe she's like me and she's horny and wants an evening of no commitment sex. I know it's forward, but I reach out and place my hand on her knee. It's been a long day and I don't have the patience for a long seduction. Either she'll go home with me or not. If not, then I want to find out fast so I can move on to the next girl to get my rocks off (and I've always got the cute bartender as a fallback). I half expect her to slap my face; if she does, I'll know I read her wrong. If I'm right and she's a horny divorcee, she'll give me a sultry bedroom eyes look as an invitation to take her home. But I don't get either of those. Instead, after I place my hand on her knee, she slowly looks back at me, not looking mad or excited. Instead, she looks kind of melancholy and says, without any emotion, "Okay, let's go." Thirty minutes later we're in my apartment. As soon as I close the door I pull her into my arms and kiss her. I start slow and soft, running my fingertips along her neck, her cheeks, along her ear. Then I press my tongue into her mouth, finding and softly caressing her tongue. The blonde's not instigating anything. It's not like she's being passive – she's responding to what I'm doing, and returning my kisses. But she's letting me take the lead, I'm the driver and she's along for the ride. That doesn't sit well with me. I want her so hot she's attacking me, ripping my clothes off. Fortunately I'm in no rush. I work on her, and we make out for a long time, standing there next to the door, her back up against the wall and me leaning into her. Eventually she starts getting into it, getting aroused. She begins running her hands through my hair as we continue kissing, pressing her body against mine. That's when I finally allow my hands to wander down her body. Up until then I'd just been stroking her neck and face. Now my hands travel down her back, softly stroking and caressing. I'm surprised when I don't feel a bra strap. She's an older lady and obviously very classy, yet she goes braless? Then, as my fingers pass over the waist of her expensive skirt and onto her ass cheeks, I immediately feel the straps of a garter belt. Now, in my experience, the only time a girl wears a garter belt to a bar is when she's looking to get laid. So, the garter belt plus no bra confirms it for me, when this chick walked into the bar she intended to go home with some dude. So I was right about her. But still, it doesn't all add up, because she doesn't come across as hot-to-trot. I reach between our bodies and cup her tits. They're small mounds in my hands. I feel hard eraser size nipples. She groans when I rub her nipples between my thumb and finger. At this point, I've got her so turned on she grinds her crotch against my hard-on. I reach down under her skirt. After finding her braless and wearing a garter belt, it doesn't surprise me to find she's gone commando. I rub a finger between her pussy lips and she moans into my mouth. I'm ready for more serious action, and I know she is too. I sit down on the sofa and roughly pull her down to her knees between my spread legs. She knows what to do. She runs her hands up my thighs, then cups my crotch. She unbuckles my belt, and unzips my pants. She gets closer so her head hovers above the big tent my cock makes in my shorts. She carefully pulls my shorts down and my cock springs out. She takes hold of it –she needs both hands – and looks up at me with heavy lidded bedroom eyes. She whispers in a husky voice "god you're big." She licks my shaft up and down, then opens her lips wide and takes me into her mouth. Let me tell you, I've gotten a lot of blowjobs in my 25 years. I know that sounds like bragging, but it's true. What can I say, I'm a good looking guy, I keep in shape, and I know how to talk to girls. Most important, I've got a big cock. I know girls say size doesn't matter, but they're lying, either to you or to themselves. Girls also talk, a lot more than men. I've had lots of girls tell me (as they're on their knees between my legs) that they had to try to me out after so-and-so told them how big I was. I call it referral fucks, and I've had a lot of referrals. So I know what I'm talking about. And what I'm saying is, this blonde knows how to give good head. She bobs up and down on my cock, her small hands around my shaft moving up and down with her head. She knows exactly the right pressure to stroke and suck me. Then she pulls me out of her mouth and licks me up and down, venturing down over my balls. She hears me moan and takes a moment to pull my shoes, socks, pants and shorts completely off. She unbuttons my shirt and I toss it to the floor. She looks me up and down, from my chiseled chest to my muscular legs, and I can tell she's impressed. Then she runs her nails lightly over my chest, and I can't help moaning. Her nails continue over my stomach and down my thighs, and I'm groaning and practically writhing on the sofa. Man she's got a good touch! She gives me a crooked smile. She knows she's got me. She grabs my calves behind my knees and pulls me forward so my ass is on the edge of the sofa. Then she licks me up and down again, then takes me into her mouth, her blonde hair bouncing as she bobs on my cock and strokes my shaft with her hands like before. While sucking me she moves one of her hands under me and lightly tickles the underside of my balls. I'm moaning and groaning and then, with her head still bobbing on my cock, she takes both hands and begins caressing the back of my thighs and ass. Feeling the caress of her fingertips and manicured nails is like bolts of pleasure! She's fucking driving me crazy! Then she pulls away again and looks at me, again with that crooked teasing smile. She knows how good she is, and how I've never gotten head like this before. She unbuttons her blouse and pulls it off, and I get my first look at her tits. I like what I see. Small but shapely, with a perkiness that belies her age. There's no sag at all, and combined with her flat stomach, I'm pretty sure this chick has never had kids. She approaches my cock again, but this time she doesn't take me into her mouth. Instead, she licks around my cock head and down my shaft. She continues over my balls, and then delves lower, and before I know it she's licking my sandbar, and then again she starts running her fingertips and nails up and down the back of my thighs and calves. I'm moaning and writhing on the sofa, my head rolling back, she's driving me ABSOLUTELY CRAZY!!! I can't stand it anymore! I abruptly pull her off me. I stand up, lifting her off the floor. In my passion I must look deranged, as I see fear cross her face. I throw her down onto the sofa and pull off her skirt. I look down and see a sexy pussy, completely bare except for a small trimmed bush just above her clit. I roughly push her legs apart and get between them. Then I take hold of both her wrists with one hand and roughly push her arms over her head. "You fucking tease! You're going to get it now bitch!" I growl. I'm usually not rough with chicks, but this cougar is bringing out the worse in me. There's fear in her face, but also – excitement? Yes, that's what I see. For the first time all night, the melancholy and distraction are gone, replaced by excitement. Still holding her wrists with one hand, I use my other to position my cock at her pussy lips. With my feet braced against the arm of the sofa, I thrust into her pussy, getting half my shaft into her with that one thrust. She screams in pain and cries "You bastard!" At that moment I don't give a fuck if it hurts, she's gotten me too riled up. I start stroking her, with each inward thrust pushing deeper into her. Feeling how tight she is, I know for certain no spoiled brats ever came out of her pussy. Pretty soon I'm balls deep in her, and I'm long stroking her, jackhammering into her. I squeeze her tits hard abusing her body further, and she cries out in pain again. I mute her cry by planting my lips on hers, thrusting my tongue down her throat. Usually I can last a long time but I feel my orgasm just around the corner. She sees it my face and hears it in my grunts, and with alarm cries "Don't you cum in me!" I let her wrists go and put her legs over my shoulders. This lets me fuck her even deeper, harder and faster, and on top of that I like the way her nylons feel on my shoulders. She grabs my arms, holding on for dear life as I pound her hard, over and over, relentlessly. She's moaning, about to climax. When she cums, her pussy contracts around my cock like a soft tight glove. The sensation is too much and I cum too, ejaculating once, twice and then three times, shooting a huge load into her pussy. After our orgasms, I let her legs fall off my shoulders and we pant into the other's face, catching our breath. She pushes against me and I roll off, my cock sliding out of her pussy. My cock is covered in milky white sperm. Looking alarmed, she looks between her legs and sees my seed seeping out of her pussy. "I told you to pull out," she says coldly, and then she goes into the bathroom shutting the door behind her. I start feeling bad. Normally I'm not that rough, and I pull out if the chick wants me to pull out. Looking back, I'm surprised she didn't ask me to wear a condom, but to be fair I know I didn't give her much chance to ask. I figure she's cleaning up and dressing to leave, so I'm surprised when she comes out of the bathroom still naked. I get my first really good look at her. Pretty face, lush blonde hair, petite slim body, perky tits, flat stomach, long legs. She's got some lines in her pretty face, and her eyes reveal her age, which I again figure to be about 40 or 41. But she's a very hot forty-something, especially standing there in nothing but a garter belt, silky stockings and high heels. Also, it looks to me like she brushed her hair and put on new lipstick. I glance down and see her pussy lips are red and swollen, but clean of my cum. She just stands there, looking at me but not saying anything. I can't read her face. I feel my cock stir. I wouldn't mind another go with this hottie. Still feeling bad and unsure of what to do next, I say "sorry about being so rough before." I know immediately I've said something wrong as she looks away. "It happens," she says dismissively. Coldly like I'm not even there, she steps into her skirt and puts on her blouse, then heads for the door. I'm surprised by her sudden mood change and blurt out. "Can I call you?" She looks at me, the melancholy on her face again. Why do I feel like I've disappointed her in some way? She smiles, but I feel like it's forced. She letting me down gently. "I had fun, but it's probably best if we keep this to just tonight," she said. Then moments later she's gone. Only later do I realize she never told me her name.