"So was that better than your husband, or what?"
He had to go and ruin that afterglow from sexual bliss. I'm not sure if it was his smug attitude that dripped from every syllable, or if it was the fact that this arrogant bastard gave me several toe curling orgasms that really bothered me. His chiseled frame, his broad shoulders, and his rugged good looks were enough to make me melt all over again. Already, I can feel that longing between my thighs to have his monster cock buried inside me once more. Still, that question was off limits.
"Let's not talk about him right now," I replied, trying to sound angry. I'm pretty sure that the words came across more as a meek schoolgirl trying to tell the school's bad boy that she's not that kind of girl.
He rolled over on top of me, gazing down into my eyes. God, he had a smoldering look, which only confirmed that he was in control. He grabbed my legs and pulled them up as if he were going to split me in two like a wishbone. He planted his arms on the outside of my body, causing me to either bend my leg over his bulging biceps or his strong shoulders. I'm sure he could tell that my pussy was begging to be pummeled yet again. I never thought sex could be like this. Before I even had a chance to breathe or offer up some kind of mild protest, his cock thrusted deep inside of me. The thick shaft had no problems sliding in and reaching the deepest part of me. My body betrayed me. My body wanted this cock deep inside me.
"Does he fuck you like the slut you are?"
How dare he call me a slut! His cock bottomed out, forcing my head against the headboard of the hotel bedroom. My vaginal walls tightened around that cock, trying to cling onto it for dear life. The mere thrust caused my train of thought to derail and take up a new line of thought. My husband doesn't fuck me, he makes lo-. I could not even finish that thought before another powerful push came from this fine alpha male specimen. God, his cock is so big and hard. I couldn't help myself. In this new position, I could feel his cock from a different angle. His rigid shaft was pressing up against my clit each time he sawed in and out of me. I wrapped my arms around his neck, not so much in a loving embrace, but because I was afraid that I was going to fall and needed something to hold on to prevent that from happening.
"I'm going to fuck your brains out, bitch."
Too late. Each pelvic thrust from his cock pounded my head against the headboard. However, I didn't care. I could feel yet another sexual wave of pleasure overcoming me. I'm sure the people in the room next to ours could hear us, both the physical pounding against the wall and my cries of ecstasy. There was no rational thought coming from my brain. It was on sensory overload. No, there was no rationality for this. It was pure lust and wanton abandon. I dug my nails into his shoulders as my body was wracked with another earth shattering orgasm.
His cock hardened once more, throbbing as it unleashed another blast of cum inside of my womb. My husband had become a one and done wonder. To experience multiple orgasms from a man in a single night only added to the mind-blowing phenomena. However, just like my husband and probably every other male, he rolled over onto his side of the bed after blowing his load inside me. I didn't complain though. That position was rather awkward, and I needed to catch my breath. My breasts heaved for every ounce of precious air. Once again, I was feeling that euphoric high of sexual bliss.
"Now tell me, whose cock do you like better? Mine or your husband's."
And again, the asshole had to ruin it with that question. I forced myself to sit up, though it took me a moment to find equilibrium as my head was still spinning. Whether it's from the headboard pounding or the sexual high, the jury is still out.
"I told you not to talk about him," I deflected. This time, I am certain that I came across as annoyed. "I love my husband very much."
"Right, and spreading your legs for me is the purest form of that love for your husband."
His voice, laced with sarcasm, taunted me as he already knew the answer to the question. He just wanted to hear me say it.
I spat back at him, "I am not going to disrespect myself or my husband by giving you an answer."
In disgust and protest to such arrogance, I stood up from the bed. I wobbled a little from being weak in the knee, both from the awkward position and from just how great that sex truly was. I stormed over to the hotel's bathroom and slammed the door. I hated him. Why does he always have to be an ass? I hated that arrogant prick, almost as much as I hated myself.
I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror. My dark roots were finally starting to show through. I loved all of the attention that I got from the change from brunette to blonde. It made me feel alive, like I was that young twenty something from so long ago. Unfortunately, my husband did not care for me being blonde. He said it didn't look natural. He said that it looked fake and store-bought. Did he not care about me enough to let me feel young? Was he too selfish and wanted me to remain as 'plain Jane'? Though, if I was truly being honest with myself, then I would admit that I changed my hair color because I knew that arrogant bastard, Brad, had a thing for blondes, and I wanted to get his attention.
