The Morning After 114

This story is Part 4 in a series. Parts 1 to 3 are linked below:

A Little Harmless Exhibitionism

A Little More Harmless Exhibitionism

Even More Harmless Exhibitionism

If you haven't read Parts 1 to 3 yet then please start at the links above before reading this one.

All stories in the series take place in the same 24h period:

I hope you enjoy. Please leave a comment. Let me know what you like and don't like.

In his studio apartment, I woke up early. He was on a bean bag, snoring. I drank two pints of water. Necked a couple of headache pills from his bathroom cabinet. Straight back to sleep. Second time I woke up I helped myself to leftovers from his refrigerator. Third time I woke up, I took a shower. As I showered I replayed the previous nights events and smiled to myself. When I came out of the bathroom he was making coffee. That's more like it.

"How can I thank you for last night?" before he could answer I corrected myself, "No wait. I mean, how can

you

thank

me

for last night?"

He handed me a cup of coffee and managed to keep a straight face for a second or two before breaking out into an uncontrolled smile.

I put the coffee down on the table and sat on the sofa. I allowed a serious expression to fall across my face. "Get on your knees," I ordered him. Such assertiveness came to me from nowhere, spontaneous, I found I liked trying it on. I opened my legs. I had a towel wrapped around under my arms but sitting down with legs open my pussy was on display. He was compliant, he put down his cup and assumed the position, put his head between my legs.

"Allow me to express my gratitude," I suppressed my instinctual embarrassment as he stopped to admire my private parts, I let him look, I waited for him to open his mouth onto them.

Yes. Why have I never even tried it like this before? I should be more assertive. I felt powerful. Sexy. Alive. I can say what I want. I will say what I want. I had already decided not to waiver, to focus on the positives, not to give in to any lingering feelings of shame. In the shower a few minutes earlier I had decided to double down, to fuck Jermy again before leaving the apartment. In my determination I had stumbled into this new assertiveness, I liked it.

I felt the heat of his mouth mix with my heat. For a split second I thought about how the hell I would merge my new self back into my old life, would I be able to order my husband to his knees like this? Then those thoughts were washed away, overtaken by new sensations. He was doing it well, starting slow, finding what works.

As he worked for me I looked down at him. The curves and ripples of his back muscles were highlighted by the morning light. Fuck ya. I'm alive. Work for me. I ran my fingers through his hair and held his head like he had done to me under the street lights the night before. As he licked me I wondered what it would be like to have a cock, to fuck his mouth. My thoughts ran wild as he worked. I bucked my hips in slow motion, moved his head back and forth, indulged my impulse to face fuck him. He didn't object, he was enthusiastic, dedicated. In the past I had heard guys joke about 'a blowjob and a beer'. In the moment I understood it clearly, I could totally sip a beer, or a prosecco, as I admired his muscles, enjoyed his dedication, allowed him to serve me, pleasure me.

"Eat me," I experimented with ordering him to do what he was already willingly doing, "Do you appreciate this pussy?" he was too slow to answer, "Answer me or you might never see it again."

"Yes, my Queen," he got the game, I liked that he addressed me as royalty, that he was willing to address me as royalty.

"Do you worship my pussy? Do you accept me as your Queen?"

"Yes my Queen. I am here to serve your pussy!"

I'll take that, I thought to myself. I felt my orgasm build steadily. I used him, allowed him to give me pleasure, selfishly took it.

After I came I turned around, perched on the arm of the sofa. I reached between my legs and spread my pussy lips, showed him what he could not resist, made good on my resolution to lean into the debauchery of the weekend. As I spread my lips for him I indulged another fantasy, imagined I was spreading my butt cheeks, demanding the unthinkable. Would I ever have the nerve to do that for real? Maybe. Maybe another time. As he slid into me I wondered if I could take him in my ass. Would it be painful? Could I ever enjoy that? Would he be gentle? Would I want him to be more than gentle?

Still sensitive after cumming, it felt exquisite as my pussy swallowed his cock. I forgot about my ass fantasy, drifted back to enjoying the here and now. Then as Jeremy fucked me from behind I allowed a series of new thoughts to enter my head. I imagined riding Max, the boss of the pizza shop. I imagined him reclining naked and fully erect on one of the restaurant tables and me lowering myself onto him. Reverse cowgirl. I recalled he was max by and name max by nature.

A montage of the hundreds of Blacks on Blonde's type clips I had consumed over the years flashed through my mind. I didn't dwell on it. I was imagining me and Max making a new one in the genre.

I imagined my husband watching from the corner of the pizzeria.

Earlier that morning I had some pangs of guilt, I questioned how I would be able to live with being a cheater? But now the urge to punish my husband resurfaced. As Jeremy picked up his pace I imagined my husband watching me ride on top of Max, pleading with me to stop, asking why I was cheating, Charles put his cock in my mouth so I did not have to reply with words, only with enthusiastic muffled sex noises. Mo restrained my husband, told him 'she is free to do what she wants man', Mo breaks it to him that if he had been a better lover none of this would have happened. He is crest fallen, broken, sobbing.

"Three times out of three from behind," I challenged Jeremy as I snapped back into the here and now after he climaxed and withdrew, "Is there something you are trying to tell me?" He was lost for words, he didn't expect to be questioned right after the effort of finishing in me.

"You don't want to kiss me while we're fucking?" I asked him, "You are avoiding looking at my face? Am I ugly?"

He regained his composure somewhat, "Lisa. Looking at you is becoming like my main occupation!" He sincerely wanted to convey his answer. It was sweet.

"Don't you mean getting other people to look at me?" I brought back up the question he had evaded the night before.

"That too," now he didn't deny it.

"So you do get a kick out of exhibiting me?"

"Yes I do," he said plainly, "Should I stop?" he asked rhetorically, "If you don't get your kicks from it then I won't do it any more"

I said nothing, he had me. On one hand I actually had nothing to complain about, on the other hand it's not like he needed any additional encouragement. So I dropped it. Come to think of it, I think that little interaction already was plenty of additional encouragement for him.

"Come to think of it," he started again, "two of those three times you offered me your back, so it is not my preferences we need to examine," he winked at me, satisfied with himself. I realized he believed he had gained an insight. I should not be

so

transparent.

"Shall we go out for breakfast", he changed the topic.

"I have nothing to wear?" I pointed out, "Like, literally, nothing. I wore your shirt last night. No shoes no underwear. Nothing."

"Classy." He passed judgement jokingly.

I made a play of trying to keep a straight face. Not engaging with his fake value judgement.

"I can give you a fresh clean shirt to wear till the shops open!" I knew it was the best offer I was going to get, lol. "you can keep it after, or, you know, just leave it on the side of the street if you prefer," he teased.

"Good to have options, I suppose," I rationalized his pervy half fantasy for him, it was likely going to be real again anyway. "Lets face it, all the clothes you buy me are going to end up in the gutter as an after thought to some debauched act," I spelled it out for him. With that I kissed goodbye to any thoughts of a relaxing wind down to the weekend, seems like I wanted more. He got straight to work, his eyes went to his wardrobe, then to his phone.

He slid the wardrobe door open and tuned to me with a shirt on a hanger in each hand.

"Left," I pointed to the black one.

"Your shoes are here, by the way," he announced as he put the blue shirt back in the wardrobe.

"Oh well. That makes all of this shit totally normal. Doesn't it?" I said while his back was still turned to me.

"I'm just saying your shoes are here. You said you have no shoes but I saw them by the door earlier." he was still faced into the wardrobe as he said it.

"Ah. That makes everything OK then. I'm not a cheater and you are not a bastard home wrecker. Cos, my shoes are here." he turned to me a little alarmed as I upped the tension.

"I just meant..." he gave up, "I thought..." he gave up again. "Do you want to come to breakfast with a bastard like me or not?"

"I do have a hunger," I said ambiguously. I eased up on the home wrecker talk. He can take it tho, he is having the time of his life. He won't forget this weekend. I can say what I like to him. Goodness knows I already said whatever the hell I wanted to him on that building site last night. And he loved it. He actually is a bastard home wrecker though. And I am actually a cheater now. Shoes or not.

"You are going to be chasing this for the rest of your life," I continued the train of thought aloud, testing his awareness, "you realize no one is ever going to talk to you again like I did last night. No one is going to let you exhibit them like I did. No one is going to fuck you on a construction site like I did. This is a one off. I don't think I'm going to do any of this shit again and I'm pretty sure nothing in your future is going to beat this. You are going to spend the rest of your life pissing off girlfriends and tinder dates, wasting your time trying to convert them into me, trying to recreate even 1% of this freak show weekend."

"Better make the most of today then!" he knew I was right, he didn't even try to argue, "Champagne for breakfast?" he gave as good a reply as anyone could have given.

I added one of his belts around my waist to make his shirt a bit more plausible as a dress. "Lead the way," I said as I stepped into my shoes and stood to attention. The shirt just about covered my ass. No underwear tho, I hope its not too windy. Come to think of it I totally don't care if the wind is blowing or not. I'll deal with it.

The cafe was 15 mins taxi ride away. In the end I was happy not to have to walk too far.

It was nice inside. All mahogany and brass, huge dark green potted plants, old style skylights and fans. Half full, the place had a buzz of chatting and light Jazz music and feint distant kitchen noises. Attentive waiting staff in smart waistcoats and white shirts. Smell of coffee and pastries. Nice, I had the feeling that since I am way out of my comfort zone this weekend, I want Jeremy to take me to nice places. It can't be only about midnight building sites.

The food was yummy. Eggs Benedict, croissant, danish, fruits, coffee, Bellini, champagne. I ate half and drank all. We chatted and laughed and joked. And drank. As we finished off the bottle and Jeremy called for the bill I was feeling woozy. The waiter left the bill on the table in a silver plate, he came back a few minutes later with a card machine. Jeremy asked to speak to the manager.

The waiter was somewhat concerned, "Do you have a complaint to make?"

"No complaint. Everything was perfect. I would just like a word with the manager," Jeremy replied with perfectly neutral tone.

"Very well, I'll see if he is available," and the waiter was gone.

A tall man in his late 40's approached the table, slightly overweight, expensive suit, Italian shoes, gold tie clip, gold watch, "I'm the owner," he said, "Is there something I can help you with."

I knew shit was about to get freaky. I was ready for it. The last thought I had before the shit hit the fan was that Jeremy needs nice shoes like this guy has.

Jeremy broke it to the owner that he had forgotten his wallet and was going to have trouble paying, needed to go to get his wallet or something.

The guy obviously wasn't happy, he wore a mild air of 'can't believe these people' or 'not this shit again', but he spoke quite professionally, "Well," he started, "thank you for asking to speak to me, lets try to sort this out," so far so reasonable I thought to myself. "Shall we go upstairs to my office and see what can be done?"

"Yes please," said Jeremy, he acted as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders! LOL.

In his office the owner sat at his desk and Jeremy and me sat opposite him. The lettering on the office door read 'Christopher Odderfield CEO'. "At least you didn't try to do a runner, no dine and dash," he said. He looked over the bill. "On the other hand you have had the works, haven't you? Champagne breakfast with lots for extras. Its over 400£ that you own me! How are you going to pay?"

The office was in the same style as the restaurant downstairs, they were going for a head office feel, trying to avoid the crappy catering back office vibe. Lots of dark wood and a dark green plants and brass accents. Buttoned green leather furniture. On the walls of the office are photos of Christopher Odderfield CEO playing golf, sailing yachts, motor boats, skiing, race cars, motor bikes, jets, helicopters. A cheesy-checklist, rich guy bullshit-bingo!

"I can go to get my wallet," Jeremy volunteered, "it will take an hour round trip. Lisa will stay here so you know I haven't done a runner."

"I don't like the sound of that," said COC, "plenty of time for your friend here to slip away while you are gone so long, I might as well just buy breakfast for the whole city!"

"What then?" Jeremy asked.

COC stretched out in his seat, "Tell you what," he said thoughtfully, as if he was thinking really hard, applying all of his considerable business acumen to spinning up some kind of creative solution that would overcome the impossible situation we all found ourselves in, "I'll write it off if your friend pays in kind."

"What do you mean 'pays in kind'?" Jeremy played dumb.

"You know what I mean," COC tried to avoid spelling it out but it seemed natural that we were going to stonewall him a bit. Jeremy replied with a raised eyebrow. I gave a vacant look, like, I'm a good girl, no clue what you are getting at. (I've never shown my tits and ass to 500 people in a night club or had strangers cum on my face, if you are going to corrupt me then you are going to have to say what you want). COC gave a slightly pained look as he realized he would have to risk spelling out what he had in mind. He didn't pause for long though, "If Lisa has sex with me here and now then you can walk, no need to get your wallet."

I put on a shocked expression.

"No way, you can't have sex with my girlfriend." Jeremy replied indignantly. Haha, last time I heard that... I thought to myself.

"Tell you what," I interjected, cut them both off, took control of the situation, "as he just said no way I would fuck you to pay for breakfast," a disappointed 'game over' look washed across COC's face, "but if you agree to write off the bill you can cum on my face," suddenly he recovered his game face as if I had flicked on a light switch!

"Shall I assume the position?" I offered my compliance, submission even. Having tasted assertiveness when I tried out my mild dominance over Jeremy an hour or two earlier, I felt a new appreciation for the give and take. The power exchange. I felt like playing with it now, I wanted to try more of each side. Last night Jeremy had led me by the hand, but that wouldn't be necessary now. I stood up and walked around the desk, didn't wait for his answer. I put my knees on the floor and sat on my heels and smiled up at him in expectation. He swiveled his chair to face me. Out of the corner of my eye I saw delight on Jeremy's face.

Suddenly COC looked unsure, like it was too good to be true, he was checking himself, asking himself if we were tricking him?

"Go for it. Give it to her," Jeremy encouraged him.

"Ya. Come on. Its OK. You can give it to me," I smiled up at him, sweet as apple pie, "I can take it."

It was too much for him, he gave up trying to process it. In a flash his body language went from amber to green. He undid his belt and fly and started to handle himself. My first impression, he was average size, less than Jeremy, much less than Max. It grew a bit more as he stroked it. He stood over me.

"That's it," I encouraged him, "not in my hair," I gave him the standard terms and conditions. It was hard now, actually he was a grower, it was an OK size.

Suddenly I was not happy to be so passive, I was done with guys cumming on my face and in the moment I was inspired by his growing size. I reached out and cupped his balls as he worked his shaft. I drew the tips of my finder nails heavily forwards from behind his sack leaving white marks on the skin.

"Ya," he said, eyes closed.

"Let me help you with that," I offered, still sweet as apple pie. I wrapped both hands around his cock and opened my mouth. I made him wait a few seconds before sucking it in and running my tongue around it.

"Fuck, ya," he groaned his visceral appreciation.

I bobbed my head backwards and forwards trapped him between my tongue and the roof of my mouth to increase friction on the head. I tried to time my breathing around my bobbing and his thrusting. I could feel it having an affect on me, my body was heating up, opening up, I was enjoying my own bodies reaction.

It occurred to me that I am sucking to pay for Jeremy's breakfast. He has planned this. I'm sucking a stranger, he planned for me to be kneeling here. He deliberately forgot his wallet so I would have to take this guys cum. How dirty. OMG. Then a thought hit me, maybe that's not it, maybe it is even more dirty than that. Maybe, maybe he has his wallet in his pocket right now and he is pretending he forgot his wallet just to see me suck a stranger. That would be filthy, is he that fucked up? I decided he was absolutely that fucked up. I felt a wave of heat pass over me. I consciously took a snap shot of my bodies reaction to that filthy idea, I would come back to it, remind myself of it, recreate it and use it in the coming months and years.

The muffled sucking noises that I earlier imagined contributing to my husbands imagined breakdown, I now consciously and enthusiastically recreated in the real world. As I warmed up my mouth on his cock I made "mmm, mmm, mmm" noises in time with my head motions. I guess COC expected something more reluctant, vanilla. He was impressed, excited, rock hard and unable to stay silent.

The shirt belt combo was only barely serviceable as a dress, since we left Jeremy's place it had taken a lot of effort and constant adjustment to keep it in place, now with my efforts concentrated elsewhere, the shirt worked its way to the floor. Naked again. Hot again. Bring it on. I pressed my throat as far on to COC's cock as I could, held him hard in there as long as I could manage. When my lungs started to burn I let it out with a popping noise from my lips and filled my lungs as dramatically as I could before going back for more. I heard my muffled "Yaaaaaa, mmmm" as it went back in my mouth.