Her Frame of Mind
Boredom! Absolute boredom! And of course, the elixir, alcohol was part of the equation!
How else could one explain a reasonably attractive, articulate, mostly responsible thirty-six year old woman going to a roach palace motel with the intent of fucking two men she hardly knew?
It began late on a Friday night. With her second scotch in hand she wandered about her room wondering what she could possibly do next to make the night go faster.
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Two o'clock am the dogs were barking. I slowly open my eyes and hear the doorbell ring probably for the second time. I glance over at my wife who is starting to open her eyes.
"Don't worry honey I got it." I say as I climb out of bed.
"Who could it be?" She asks sleepily, but her eyes shortly close as she goes back to sleep never one to let anything keep her awake long at night.
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I'm Alton. I'm a 40 year old bisexual man who got a divorce just last year. Since my divorce I've decided to explore sexually and live life to the fullest. I've also decided to "come out" and admit my bisexuality. Following is just one of my many adventures in exploring my new sexual freedoms.
My ad read, "Bi-male, 40, seeks fun couples". The ad was placed on a "swapping" site on the internet and I was pleasantly surprised at the many responses that I received as I hadn't found many bi males listed on the site.
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I was nervous in the car as he drove to the club. Steven picked out my clothes – a very sheer yellow tank top with a short denim skirt. My hair, long, dark red, and curly, is framing my heavily made up face. He told me to put a 'sluttish' look to my face and smiled at the result. His fingers stroked my thighs the entire ride there and he talked about the fun we'd have.
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'Damn him,' I thought, angrily stomping out as the door slammed shut behind me. Even on holiday he could find something to moan about, maybe its time I started looking for a new Master! Let me explain, by nature I am a very submissive person, perhaps you might even call me a pacifist, under his tutelage I had become his slave, his slut and his whore.
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This story is meant to serve entertainment purposes only, it means no direspect towards Muslims or the religion of Islam. I had a crush on a girl, and it just happened that she was Muslim. Hope you enjoy the story.
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"Oh my gosh, it's her again," I thought to myself.
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The drinks through the evening made him nice and woozy. His head felt light and in this state Sunita looked ever sexier and alluring. As if that was not enough, she was wearing her saree with one of those blouses that was daringly cut. Every time she leaned to serve someone or pick up a glass for refill, her low slung blouse gave enough slack for everyone to look down the front. Not that there was so much on display; her breasts were just short of large and there was not any significant cleavage. Her breasts mostly were contained by her bra.
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A young man in jeans and a TransFlyte golf shirt watched the last piece of luggage get picked up from the baggage claim carousel by a middle-aged businessman. He saw the single remaining girl's exasperated expression, even from a distance. When the carousel stopped, she stared at it as if trying to make it move again.
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Maybe it's a hold over from ten thousand years ago when animals gathered together as fall turned into winter. For what ever reason it has held that the fall is the start of the social season for the human species as well.
It was a ritual for me to step out of the shower with only a towel wrapped around my head. Kenny would be there naked on the bed with his strong hard cock in hand. He would say "Wilda you are so fucking sexy.
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Monica woke, a heavy throbbing pain in her head. She smiled to herself as she remembered the sex. Her pussy was pleasantly sore and she could feel the dried up cum caked between her thighs; she smiled and stretched her body. 'God, that sex was incredible,' she thought reaching for her husband. It was with a little disappointment that she discovered his side of the bed was empty.
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