Repressed Sexual Thoughts

2003-10-27 @ 8:21 p.m.

Friday night she made her way to a little pub in Lauderhill. She lived in West Palm Beach, but she only did it with people who lived at least a half hour away. She didn�t want people recognizing her.

She was wearing her grandmother�s wedding band. She sat at the bar and asked for a Pina Colada. Her mind drifted off till the bartender brought back her drink. She was vaguely sipping her drink when someone behind her put his hand on her shoulder. The man took a seat on the stool to her left. Tall, black, and handsome.

�Hi. I�m Quincy,� he said.

She gave him a faint, pathetic smile and he said, �I can tell you�re having problems with your husband from the fact that your wedding band is on the wrong hand. Your own little way to rebel against your struggling marriage.�

Alana looked down. She didn�t even know that there was a specific hand to wear a wedding ring on. She almost laughed at him for making such a stupid comment, but instead she looked at him wide-eyed and said, �How so perceptive. How�d you ever figure that out?,� she asked.

�I�m a psychiatrist. You can tell me your troubles... if you�d like.�

�Well, I�m Alana. You�re a psychiatrist? I wish he�d let me have a job like that. He doesn�t want me to be independent. I�m his little... doll.� For the next ten minutes, she rambled on a made-up story about her cheating husband who underappreciated her.

Finally, Quincy said, �Let�s make love.�

The term �make love� scared her, but she agreed on one condition. �I want to have sex at my house so that it�ll be in the same house that we live in together. He�s out of town on a �business trip��.

He followed her to her apartment. When they reached her apartment, he got out of his car and climbed into hers. He undid her pants and stuck his hand down them until he got to her vagina. It may have been an awkward position for him, but she enjoyed it. He swirled his fingers around the outside and then buried them in.

They finally made their way in to her apartment. She slammed her door shut and dropped her purse and took off her clothes. She walked over to him and took off his clothes. His dick was long and thick and erect. She grabbed hold of it. �Damn,� she said. She couldn�t even cup her hand around it.

She took his arm and brought him to her throw rug. She laid down on it and he climbed on top of her. He put his dick between her boobs and started fucking them. She never quite understood the point of boob-fucking, but nonetheless he enjoyed it.

Quincy finally stopped and decided to dive into her. The first attempt didn�t work. She squirmed and screamed bloody murder. �I don�t think that thing can fit,� she said.

�I�ll make it fit.�

He buried four fingers into her and finger-fucked her hard and fast. Then he held her vagina open with two fingers and stuck his tongue into it. He swirled his tongue around and around. She yelped with pleasure.

�Oh man,� she rejoiced. She was so moist and quite ready. �Try it now,� she said.

He slipped in. As it was entering her she shrieked from the painful, yet enjoyable sensation she felt. His rhythm was like a song. It was slow and controlled. He�d occasionally go a little faster, but she would tell him to slow down because she couldn�t handle it. She tightened her vaginal muscles around his dick and his body would go limp as he moaned. They went at it like this for five hours. That was the longest fuck she had ever, ever had. He finally said, �I can�t sustain this any longer. I need to release.�

His semen came into her like a river and she also let go. It was beautiful. After he came she said, �I need your number. That was too good to not have again.

posted by tilori85.diaryland.com

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