If Tom had told Daisy on the drive into the city that she would later find herself draped over the hotel bed, her dress hanging off of her in tatters, happily wearing his cum, and saying the words that she was about to utter she would have giggled and said he was dreaming.
And yet there she was in exactly that position, her head hanging off the side of the bed, her hands drifting down her body to play with the vibrator that Tom had placed inside of her. She looked up at him, playfully licked the underside of his hardening cock and said, "Fuck my mouth," before leaning her head all the way back with her mouth open wide.
Tom didn't need to be invited twice. Placing a hand on either her head, he slid his cock between her lips. As the head glided over her tongue, he realized she was being completely passive. She wasn't sucking him but opening herself to be completely used by him. After a few slow, shallow probes of her willing mouth, Tom dared to slide deeper.
They were both surprised at how deep he could go. It seemed as though the position completely eliminated what little gag reflex she had. Tom couldn't believe the intensity of sensation as the head breached her throat and felt the muscles their reflexively wrap around him.
Tom paid careful attention to Daisy's breath, letting his cock obstruct air until he could feel the increased suction as her body fought for more oxygen than immediately withdrawing to get her breathe before sliding himself in again.
Daisy, for her part, was floating in an almost dreamlike state. She was vaguely aware of the cock making such assertive use of her mouth and throat, of the hand that had come to be wrapped firmly around her neck while the other massaged her breast. She knew her hands were manipulating the vibrator (which she had turned off since she found the buzzing to be more numbing than stimulating) to match the languid pace of Tom's explorations.
The combined effect of all that stimulation was an almost out of body experience. While her body hummed with pleasure, her mind drifted.
Tom had been right, of course. There was certainly a part if her that had always wanted to be a whore. She thought of all the missed opportunities of her timid college years; of how she looked down on the girls rumored to have taken part in gang bangs, but than feverishly masturbated to the idea of being at the center of one herself.
Tom and her had always had a reasonably adventurous sex life: road head in a top down convertible, the occasional fuck in a clothing store dressing room, a hand job and finger fuck in the pit at a concert. Daisy revisited those memories often (with some embellishment here and there) when she indulged in her daily self pleasure. Still, all the hot monogamy in the world couldn't quite scratch the itch of wishing she had been more promiscuous before finding Tom.
These thoughts and a thousand other unfulfilled fantasies washed over her. She pictured being double teamed by her lascivious frat boy neighbors from her first year of grad school. She imagined being fucked by a stranger in the bathroom of a night club, then going home with someone else to give them the sloppy seconds.
As her mind wandered to those dark corners, the thought to herself, "Fuck, I really am a whore."
Snapping out of her revelry, she gently pushed Tom back and got on all fours. "Take me from behind." she purred. Tom accepted the offer with rigor, driving into her hard and deep. he grabbed a fistful of hair to pull her back against him, causing her to arch her back and whimper as she felt still more orgasms creeping up from deep within her.
