"Oh yes, Daddy! Give me more please!" Pamela snarled in Tyler's ear through gritted teeth. Her hard chocolate nipples raked his chest as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held on while he bounced inside her. Pamela arched back as far as she could while straddling him so that his hard tool could reach as far as it could into her lovely black velvety pussy. And so he could have an unobstructed view of her smooth glistening torso and triangular B cup tits as they bobbed in unison with his upward thrusts.
"Tyler! Tyler!" She amplified the pitch of his name each time she said it. "TYLER" She was screaming it now. "TYLER! OH FUCK YES!" Tyler's alabaster fingers dug into the globe of each cheek as he slammed her down on his dick. Pamela never thought that a white man would give her the fuck of her life- let alone a redhead. Weren't redheads supposed to be wimps and with a name like Tyler? C'mon!
"Oooh Ooooh. " She was cooing at this point, speech wouldn't come because she was on the verge of that fragile thing called an orgasm. She didn't want to disturb it, it was like tip-toeing around a soufflé one wrong move and poof it was gone. Pamela had promised herself that she would never see Tyler again and this was just a one-off- a dirty story she'd tell the other gals at the nursing home – the night she got her swirl on! So she had allowed herself to be free she would use his body for its ultimate purpose-her pleasure. She could be bossy and ask for what she wanted, she could be submissive and take what was given or any other combination. She could scream and not worry about the neighbors. She wouldn't even worry about being sore the next day.
Tyler was leaving town she never had to see him again. He didn't travel in her social circles anyway. She was a hairdresser on the North side of town and he was a personal trainer on the South side. He was leaving to pursue a more lucrative job in Los Angeles. She was staying put, sewing in extensions and braiding hair in her small salon.
"Fuuuck me white boy" she thought. She started doing the math in her head if he was 27 and she was 29 how many more fucks were in him tonight, maybe 2 more or 3 more. She needed all 3 of those fucks including the one she was having right now. This was going to have to last her until the next time she could trust someone. She was relaxed so she could have her beautiful precious jewel of an orgasm. He pulled her off of him and her pussy fairly puckered reaching for that pink cock. "No," she moaned. "More." Orgasm aborted, she was in the perfect position where he was stroking all the right spots, and the rhythm was good. "Goddam porn" she thought. What was it with all these changes of position this was not a square dance it was the horizontal mumbo and it only had one tempo –what mama likes!
He grabbed her by the hips and then maneuvered her onto her side. He knelt behind her and raised her top leg into the air where it made a complete 90Ëš angle. He threw his leg over her resting leg so now they would intersect and he could pound that gash from the side. He could see the little bits of pink flesh peeking from in between her swollen lips. Tyler spat on her pussy and she jumped startled from the spray. He creased her lips with the tip of head from the clit teasing the entrance with his head.
She had no time for teasing; she quickly reached down and spread her lips apart for him with her hands. He pushed into her and rotated his hips until he was stirring her insides like he was making pudding. She was still a little pissed; he had robbed her of her orgasm her little hard to achieve nugget of happiness.
Next time she thought, "Handcuffs." A smile emerged when she thought of the idea of handcuffing him to the bed so she could ride him like a mechanical bull. Her mind went instantly to all those videos she'd seen of women riding the mechanical bulls on YouTube.
The ride operators went to great lengths to simulate a sexual experience with those things. The damn bull would go up and down in these smooth movements, and then spin around quickly. Then the bull would suddenly lurch forward so that the woman's pussy would be in direct contact with the hump in the machine's back. This is when the bull would shake violently like a giant vibrator against the woman's clit. You could always tell the first-timers, the ones who had been dared by drunken girlfriends or lascivious men waiting for a free show and not truly knowing what to expect.
It must have been worse for the women who only had on light sundresses and panties underneath because when the bull dipped and would remain motionless for a moment, the women would attempt to sit up and then the vibration'd hit them and their faces would be beat red. Some would try to cover their faces and not let on how good it must have felt in front of strangers. She imagined them trying to debate whether or not to pull their pussies away from it. Somehow the thought of this got her really really wet. Tyler began squeezing her clit between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it around until it produced sweet nectar that coated his fingers.
She put her leg down and sat on her haunches she pushed Tyler onto his back. She swung her leg around until it was on either side of his hips. She lowered herself against the head of his cock; she let him help open her up so that she could ease him inside. Much like mechanical bull riders it caught her off guard. It was strange how he felt so much bigger now and he completely filled her up as if she was banging a different man. She took both of his hands and placed them against her breasts. A few thrusts she saw his face contort and he went into what was typically called the "White man's overbite". She knew he was going to come and it would be all over for a little while.
She tried to slow down the rhythm rotate her hips a little more instead of the up and down pounding that was making the little vein in his forehead dance. She started to hear the little grunts he made with each movement. It was such a nice masculine sound and seemed to awaken something extremely feminine and primal within her. She forgot about trying to control his speed because she wanted to hear more of this guttural noise that emanated from his thin rosy lips. "Shit", he grunted. She could feel that tingle that always seemed to begin on the left side of her pussy. It was weird it always seemed like the beginning of the urge to pee and then it seemed to open up and spread throughout the whole of her cunt. Her lips contracted tighter on his shaft and then began to pulse against her will against his swollen member.
Tyler wasn't particularly large - no gigantic pussy destroying purple monster here. It was a conservative penis a little shy of 7 in. What he lacked in length he made up for in thickness, his cock reminded her of the little butt plugs that her cousin gave out at his "Jack and Jill" bachelor party for his commitment ceremony. His dick didn't taper at the end as much as she would prefer in fact she had to have help getting him inside of her. "Shit. Shit. Shit." He growled. There was something about that voice it was so deliciously masculine how that did it for her. That voice was a voice that phone sex was made for. "What was that I couldn't hear you?" She smirked as she looked down at him. 'Say my name' she thought if he could say her name in that heavy husky voice it would make her squirt like a man. She could feel the twitching in his cock and another tell-tale grunt.
"Tyler whose cock is this?" She demanded.
"What?" He groaned.
"I wanted you to tell me..."
He grabbed her by the neck and pulled her down to him. She felt his cock starting to grow slack inside her at the same time he had a death grip on her neck. She felt like an animal trapped in a snare. Her breasts were smashed against his pecs as he held her close to him. She could feel the hot spray from his breath against her forehead as he pumped his load into the thin layer of latex that protected them from parenthood.
She collapsed against him and he released his hold. The both of them breathing heavily he winked at her. Oh God there it was. She was going to miss him and those hazel eyes. 'Damn't here we go.' She thought. She struggled to get off of him, off of the bed and some distance between them before the water works started. She made it as far as the edge of the bed before she felt the hot tears spill down her face.
"Whoa. Wait a minute." Tyler said realizing something was wrong.
She was heaving now. Her body was having spasms but for a different reason this time. He sat up and he reached for her. She got tangled on the covers pooled on the floor beneath the bed and as she ran she stumbled. Tyler popped up from the bed trying to follow her to the bathroom. He became tangled in the same damn covers. He kicked free of his fabric constraints and ran after her.
She made it to the bathroom barely locking the door before he closed the gap between them.
He knocked on the door. Pamela was in a full on crying jag now, the kind that seizes your whole body and renders you incapable of speech or action. "Pammy. What's wrong?" He listened intensely for the answer. "I thought we were having a good time?" He scratched his balls and just stared at the door.
"Pammy. C'mon talk to me."
Pam couldn't talk. She began splashing water on her face from the sink but the water was no match for the tears that were pouring down her face.
"Pam this is not an inexpensive room. I'd hate to have to break down the door and pay for the damages but I will." He said.
All he can hear is her gasping for breath in between cries. Now all of a sudden she got the hiccups. So now comedy was added to the ridiculousness of the situation. She quickly shoveled handful after handful of water in her mouth, trying to stop the hiccups.
"Fuck, Pam. Really I don't understand what happened?" He paused for a moment and softness crept into his voice. Then he asked, "Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you?"
A weak "No" came from the other side of the bathroom door. "Well, I really don't understand, then." Pam stared at herself in the mirror and knew that she was a sight. Her make-up had smeared and a strip of false eyelashes were hanging by one corner. She applied pressure on the strip and hoped that this quick remedy would suffice until she could get to the glue in her purse in the other room. 'Why did I have to want a white boy? And this white boy of all the men who were still in town and could become possibly viable lovers and boyfriends she would want one that was leaving town.
The flood of emotions threatened to overtake her again when she remembered something from a TV program. Some little old lady claimed to be an evolutionary biologist or some such nonsense said something about a bonding hormone. Oxycontin? No that wasn't it. Oxy? Oxytocin! That was it. The bonding hormone bonded women to men just as it bonded them to babies. The biologist cautioned, "That women should be careful jumping in to bed too quickly because it was especially potent after really good sex." Shit she was doomed!