Friday, July 20, 2012

Cheap LA whore

Long-distance relationships are always fraught, the sexual tension and release explosive, and you don't know the person in the same way as if you were in the same city dating every day. Still, I met a man once who made me abandon my caution.

I still remember when we both had business in Los Angeles, and of course I couldn't be truthful to him about what my real business there was. We shared a room at a hotel near LAX that had once been top-of-the-line but was just on the edge of shabby. After pulling off the bedspread, on which ultraviolet would expose countless semen stains of strangers, we were naked on clean, soft sheets. Just the kissing and feel of our bodies totally touching from head to toe had me about to come. Which I did when he climbed on top and fucked me, first in missionary, then with my legs scissored in front of his chest (weird, different feeling!), him leaning close and pinioning my legs with his arms (knees at elbows) and then a long big nasty with my legs over his shoulders as he thrust into me while turning his head to kiss my ankles. Whenever I could, I would look down to see his cock going into me, one of my biggest visual turn-ons.

"I'm a cheap LA whore," I teased, an indeed I was wearing sheer black stockings and garter and being impaled in a crappy hotel room. He wouldn't go there. "You are not," he said, telling me how attractive and wonderful I was. I joked, but perhaps there was something behind the words and perhaps he sensed it.

Yes, I am a slut and must be tough in my professional life. But I had really fallen for this man. He was smart and kind, cleaned up well, had a stimulating range of interests and could always make me laugh with a very dry sense of humor. I had that most dangerous feeling a woman can have: A vision for us. (And maybe some men are as vulnerable). Yet he had been hurt very badly in his recently ended marriage and was wary (even though he never gave me an angry revenge fuck against the ex — he spoke kindly of her). The sex was great and I went with it. But 'though slut that I am, I wanted more. I didn't want to be just his transitional lover.

In bed, we talked until his cock was recovered, and then I worked my way down his chest, kissing his body and rubbing my pert breasts and nipples against him. Stationed between his legs, I licked and sucked him for half an hour until he had another big orgasm. He had the strongest stream of come of any lover I'd had, and even with the second orgasm I got a nice treat.

Then he gave me a working over: Long time kissing and fondling and sucking my breasts. Then I swear he played my pussy for an hour, bringing me right to the edge and pulling back, over and over. At one point, he was lightly rubbing my perineum with one finger while (I learned later) using two fingers to make a "U" motion at the bottom of my pussy, all while tongue-worshipping me. All I could manage was a moan of "What are you doooooing?" before I exploded. It was the most amazing feeling.

We fucked five more times over the next 15 hours before we got on our planes and went different directions. He got married two years later. I won't say/admit it broke my heart. The sex was great and maybe we got the best either had to give at that time.

4 comments:

Michael said...

Very warm memory you shared. It's nice to see the softer side of Linda Sue. I've had a few long distance loves in my time, and they were always wonderful.

Mike

Anonymous said...

I once knew this girl in Fairfax.

She was nice, professional, fit, sexy, intelligent and a homeowner. How well I recall the night we spent after my tactical training one day. I was tired and edgy the way you get after being shot at all day. And how she liked my heavily edited stories about what I did that day.

In the end I decided that I wanted to GET AWAY from DC not be tied closer to it.

Was it the European friend who would become serious, that prompted my misgivings?
Was it DC turning into the worst aspects of the Bay Area without the stock options?

I guess what I am trying to say is... sometimes it's the package not just the girl... sometimes a man can tell which way his life is going to go by who they Marry.

This girl had everything, but she was not civilian enough and she was not way the heck away from VA.

And as I look back on it now I really do think it was hate of the DC life more than anything.

Community Activist

both.hands.please said...

I hear you LindaSue. Long distance can be the cruelest. Best just to dabble in the delicious memory.

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