Dirty Martini

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Babes

Something like this had to happen eventually, I mean the whole social media thing and all your old boyfriends out there scouting around looking for their old hookups and trying to find out who’s game for a toss of flesh and all that. So R contacted me because through a mutual friend he saw my post and picture and asked to friend me. I of course remembered him immediately, and in a way was thrilled at the contact, it had been something like over 30 years and I hadn’t thought a lot about him. Into my second marriage a few kids, who knew what path his life took after we broke up.

“I saw your picture in D’s post and that you were friends with her and I wanted to say hi…” he messaged me. I of course friended him.

“I’m on the coast a lot for work so maybe one of these trips we can get together for a drink or dinner, meet your family,” he wrote.

Six months later we did meet up. We had not communicated at all during that time, only he had said he was coming to town and having dinner with a mutual friend D and would I like to join them? I thought it would be fun, not having seen the friend for a long time as well and with my husband out of town with my son for the week, welcomed the company.

The three of us had a great time after a short while of awkward moments negotiating attention from one to the next helped increasingly by a series of cocktails. By the time the check came we were laughing and carrying on like the 20-somethings we once were, it was comforting and nice, a solid warm feeling. Not quite wobbly, we left the restaurant into the cool evening and D excused himself, needing to waken early the next day for work. We all hugged goodbye.

“It’s great to see you Miche, I mean really, after all these years,” he said.

“You too R. Thanks for contacting me, I had a great time. Those were great times we had back then.”

“I don’t mean to suggest anything, but the only thing I have to do tomorrow is hop on an afternoon flight, you want to join me for a cocktail at the Belle… it’s a great bar.”

I didn’t miss a beat, “I know the Prada, I love that place.”

I kind of went through various scenarios in my head when I was driving to dinner thinking as a fantasy what if the opportunity arose, what if he showed interest, what if I found him attractive, what if… and here it was and I didn’t even think about it for a second, I just reacted.

“Oh great, you’re so cool, I always knew that about you. I’ll see you there in a few.”

Now committed I felt a hot wind rush over my cheeks accompanied by a tingling sensation. It was as if a long sleeping feeling had stirred. He left to his car and I to mine. On the drive over I kept thinking that I could just bail out, go home, and text him I was tired, but something kept me from doing so.

He was already in a booth when I arrived, two bourbons in front of him.

“I took the liberty of ordering,” he said, “thanks for coming, I was afraid you’d bail.”

“Not a chance,” I replied wryly.

“Can I get something out before we go any further?” he asked.

“Go ahead,” I responded.

“For many years I always wondered why you chose C. I remember him so well, he was obviously bad news, but you couldn’t commit to me and kept returning to him. What happened to him? Why didn’t you stay with me, I think I was heartbroken, I think I was in love with you, did you know that?”

“Well that’s a lot of load to lay on me after we’ve both had a few marriages, kids and more than 30 years,” I replied. I took a long swig.

“I know, but what the fuck, who has time to doddle?”

“I think I was in my bad boy phase… you know… if he was an asshole and treated me bad, I wanted him over those who were good boys… it’s a stupid girl thing, I can’t explain it. Truthfully though, my loss, I think I made a mistake losing you.”

“Well, thanks anyway, a lot of water under the bridge. You still in your bad boy phase, mom?” he teased.

“I don’t know, are you a bad boy,” I asked him, taking a long pull.

“Depends on what you mean, bad… ” he replied. “Come,” he got up with his glass and extended his hand, “I want to show you my favorite part of this hotel.”

I took his hand and he led me away from the table, out the bar and we walked holding hands outside onto this lovely path that overlooked the picturesque city in the distance, the fog making it glow. We arrived at a bench set back into some bushes that provided a private view, off the path that no one would likely be walking at this hour.

“It’s so quiet and pretty, I never knew this was here,” I said as we sat down.

We sat down, or I should say I sat down, taking a sip. He situated himself on his back and lay his head on my lap.

“Hey, isn’t that a little intimate, I hardly know you,” I joked.

He looked up at me, “I just want to lie here and look at you, beautiful.”

“Now that’s too intimate.”

He turned over and mouth playfully bit my crotch through layers of cloth. “No, this is too intimate.”

I bahis firmaları was both shocked and amused as he turned back over and looked back at me. “Do you remember sex back in the day… I think you were a lot of fun, but I lost the details, it was a long time ago.”

“You loved eating me, that’s what I remember, probably more than anyone I’ve had since, really,” I responded, surprised at my candor and quick recall. It was true.

“Yeah, I think I did.”

“What do you remember,” I asked. “What was your favorite thing?”

“I loved your breasts. I thought about your tits a lot after you left. They look great by the way, under your clothes. Yeah, I loved those.”

“Yeah, that’s another thing I’m remembering now, you sucked my nipples raw, I remember that.. .I can’t believe what I let you do.”

“I think I was in love with you and you broke my heart,” he looked at me with sad puppy dog eyes trying to gain compassion.

“What can I say, I was a fool, I went for the bad boy. Sorry, I didn’t know. You seem to have made out fine.” We laughed at the silliness of it all, looking back.

Then he pulled my face down to meet his, lips to lips. We kissed tentatively, tasting the skin around each other’s mouths, tonguing the exterior lips gently, exploring the skin, as well as the feelings. Our lips fell full into each other’s almost half and half lust and love, but definitely longing. He was such a good kisser, firm and direct, but still gentle. I had electricity tingling all over. We twisted passionately like that for a long while, exploring mouths, our heads upside down. I was growing hot and to be honest, wet. I pinched my legs together, tightening my crotch, upon which his head lay.

“ummmm,” he murmured within our kissing.

I pulled away and sat up, “Oh my, where did that come from?”

“Your pussy, or your heart, or your memories,” he responded.

“My memories of you are sweet, but it’s been such a long time.”

He responded by turning over his head and play-kissing my crotch, covered with several layers of cloth. I giggled at the silliness of what he was doing. He went harder at it, I felt his tongue probing my triangle through the clothes.

“Stop, we’re in public,” I laughed.

He reached under my dress and ran his fingers up my leg, tickling my thigh. He moved his head lower, to get under my dress.

“You’re not going to disrobe me on a public bench in the moonlight,” I told him with sarcasm, “I’m not that kind of girl,” and yanked my dress down, putting his head back on my lap. He wrapped his arms around my waist and held me tight. Since having two kids a curious thing happened to me in that when I get aroused, I leak piss, just a trickle, but it’s something I cannot really control. My husband doesn’t actually like or appreciate it so I’ve become self-conscious. After all the drinking I did tonight, I feared that might present some embarrassment as the feeling came over me.

A small trickle ran out of me, which my panties absorbed. R didn’t notice and I hoped it would end there. But he then returned to nuzzling my crotch with his face, energizing my glowing sensations, not knowing where this was leading. He tried and this time succeeded in getting a hand under my dress and up around my panties.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Trying to touch your magic, Miche, it’s been so many years, I can’t imagine what it feels like, I want to touch it.”

And I didn’t resist as his fingers parted the panties at my cunt lips and found the end of my slit. That was too much for me and I dribbled a few ounces of pee down my leg.

“What’s that, you’re getting wet, oh yeah,” he noticed.

“R,” I said, “I have this condition where I can’t control my bladder when I’m aroused, sorry, had to let you know.”

“Sounds fun,” was all he said, and his fingers went higher around my pussy lips. The touch was wonderful, but agonizing because we weren’t going to get anywhere here and I didn’t even know what he wanted… or what I wanted for that matter. All I know is that I was getting hornier and hotter as his fingers began circling my quim, feeling the catch of my hairs on his fingers, delicately playing with my wet lips.

“Ohhhh, R…” I whispered. I was now falling into an erotic trance, the memories, the alcohol, my wetness. I had a sudden urge to yank down his pants and just blow him there, thinking ahead of the feeling of a sexy full cock in my mouth, the head pushing down my throat. I loved giving head, and I think I loved giving him head all those years ago… at the time it was a faint memory.

He totally surprised me with a sudden move where he just got leapt up on his feet and announced, “Gotta pee.”

I was shocked out of my steaming trance as I watched him stand, walk to the side of the bench and still shielded from the path and the larger public view, take out his dick and start pissing into the bushes behind us.

“You disgusting pig,” I called out to him, “Anywhere you kaçak iddaa want?”

“I need to go, who cares,” he replied.

I watched him stream without a care in the world, thinking how unreal but funny this all was. On a whim I turned toward him and thrust my hand into the rush, spraying his piss all over my arm, my coat sleeve and splashing against his crotch and pants. He turned to me in surprise, accidentally jetting his warm salty arc into my face. Rather than repulse, I opened my mouth, trying to collect as much as I could. I missed half of it and my face and hair were getting drenched in his piss and started laughing and choking at the amount of piss I was trying to swallow. It was delicious, it was his, I was his at this moment. His cock grew straight and began enlarging and the stream slowed. He moved quickly toward me and glued his mouth to mine, sucking any remaining lemonade back out of my mouth and throat. Our tongues met in a mad tangle of excitement, piss, and lust. I grabbed his head and cradled it for a long time. My hand found his semi-hard sodden cock and I slowly put it in my mouth, beginning to suck the head lightly. I licked the ridges and all over the shaft, feeling it begin to swell.

“No,” he said after a few minutes. “Not here,” and he pulled his clothes together, buttoned up, took my hand and kissed each finger lovingly, “Let’s get another drink.”

Hand in hand we walked to a side entrance to the hotel and went in, calling the elevator. In the cab I looked at myself in the mirror, hair matted with piss, face splotched and dripping, R behind me nuzzling my neck. I wondered what the bartender may have thought… that we were caught in the rain? We looked like shit. Holding each other with invigorating joy, we polished off half of our drinks.

On the 9th floor the doors opened and still holding hands, he led me down the hall. Now I really needed to pee myself, the slight dripping not doing anything to relieve my bursting bladder. We entered his room and he turned on the lights.

The room was fabulous, unbelievable view… I guess R was doing well, aside from peeing in the bushes, he presented very polished, good manners, excellent clothes, smart, a good tipper, not a shithead… I was so glad. It passed through my fuzzy horizon that I was a fool to let him go all those years ago, but you cannot go back and there are no regrets. Only meeting up many years later…

Holding each other he led me to the bed and, taking the glass from my hand, gently pushed me down on the bed. He put both glasses on the table and with a fever began tearing my clothes off, beginning with my shoes, my bra the final fabric intact on my flesh. This he slipped off gingerly, tossing it far across the room. I was stark naked and desperate to pee, but not resisting his moves.

His kisses resumed, back on my neck, moving down to my nipples. He began circling my nips, first one tit, then the other, trying to give each equal time.

“I knew I’d love your tits once I saw them at dinner, waiting to pop out of that sexy top,” he teased, mouth back on mine, our tongues finding purchase once again with each others’.

My hands were digging at his belt, some very fine alligator or some exotic piece, trying to open up his jeans, the front damp with the earlier splash.

“Don’t,” he warned, pushing my hand away, “I’m not finished pissing and if I’m aroused, I can’t pee, you must know that about us,” he mused.

“Oh no,” I responded, “more?”

“I can’t believe you let me pee on your face, in your mouth, are you a piss slut?” he asked.

“I’ve never done that before,” I answered, “I always had a fantasy of it and always wondered what it would be like but no one ever went that far.”

He removed his pants and finally his shirt, it looked like a hand made tailored job, splashed with piss. He looked deeply into my eyes, kissing my nose gently, and then knelt and moved over me, sitting on my chest, his weight on his knees, his semi-soft dick pointing at my face a few inches away.

“Don’t do anything, close your eyes,” he whispered.

I felt a delicate stream trickle down my cheek and opened my eyes. His pee found my face again and the pressure increased as he loosened up. I opened my mouth and found the stream, this time catching all of it. It filled my cavity, sloshing around my teeth and tongue, the taste salty and ammoniac at once. As I began sensing my limit, the stream lessened, stopping almost as suddenly as it had begun. He was finally finished. I tried to swallow a bit of it but opening my throat in that position caused the whole of it to rush down and I choked, coughing half of it up and out onto my chest. He grabbed one of my nipples with two fingers, pinching tightly and began licking the spilled urine around us.

“Ohhh, Miche, I can’t believe you did that, I think I can fall in love all over again,” he joked.

The feeling on my tit was so erotic. I love nipple pinching and have tried to have lovers do that to the point kaçak bahis of pain, but they always stop too soon. Not R. He kept the pressure on and I was getting so aroused it was getting close to me demanding some cuntal attention.

I didn’t have to. He quickly shifted positions, still keeping his finger vise on my tit, moving his head down to my slit, parting the bush with his chin as it slid beneath my buttocks. He tongued my twat lips, ringing the slit playfully, waiting for my moans to come, which they did. My breath became suddenly faster as he got more serious. He started sucking on my labia, which are exceptionally long.

“I remember these,” he murmured, “I used to joke about tying them together.”

“Shut up,” I responded, directing his head deeper into me.

His tongue was sloshing my twat lips, finding my clit, then biting the long fleshy pink flaps a bit harder. I moaned and began writhing. I was getting wet and steamy. His hands kneaded my hindquarters, the thigh, rubbing my legs. Then my butt, he molded and massaged my rump, the cheeks so soft in his hands while his tongue drove me dreamy. I was about to come, aroused by the pee dripping from my mouth, his head shoved up my pussy, I’m woozy.

The wavy feeling was circling my head and the sensations getting stronger. I had totally forgotten about my bladder when suddenly, I felt the urgency. In desperation, I reached down and tried to push his head away. He responded by cupping my ass and mouthing my entire crotch. He squeezed me gently around my belly and licked up the gash to my clit, biting gently and flickering.

I shuddered for a moment, then the dam burst. I poured my hot piss directly into his mouth, glued tight around my geyser, I just opened everything at once. He took in a mouthful and jerked back, now watching the sheets grow darker with the stream. He quickly returned, tongue seeking my yellow flow. Now more in control, he drank from me, spitting some out, taking more in. I continued peeing for another 10 seconds, the flow strong. He was laughing now, swallowing another mouthful.

“Miche, that tasted so amazing, you nasty girl. I love this,”

“I didn’t know you’d liked this,” I said.

“Anything with you,” he responded.

I finished with a trickle and R, now soaking, slammed two fingers up my cunt, nibbled my rock hard clit. I sat up and moved over to him, his cock now rigid. I locked my mouth to his, tasting in my pussy scent and my pee at once. I swooned. I took his dick and put the head against my swollen hole. He took the cue and pushed into me. I felt the polished head force an inner cuff to loosen, jamming into my woman hole. It felt good, the memories of years ago faint but coming back. He started slow thrusts, each timed with our kisses. A hand found my marble nipple, his pinching erotic. Our fucking took it up a notch and my world was spinning. My orgasm climb had begun again, I needed to come hard.

Suddenly, I felt the pressure from holding all that pee release and my gut loosened. I felt I had to fart, but didn’t want to break the mood in any way. His rhythm was getting faster and harder. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him into me, stretching out my holes, but lost control in the moment and I just let the fart go. A quiet but sharp flutter, and a light odor. Then, without knowing, my asshole now relaxed, I squeezed out two small chocolate drops. I kissed him harder and fiercely enough to distract him if he had even seen what happened. My legs were tight around his back, moving him away. I prayed he wouldn’t notice my droppings.

R broke our kiss and slid out from me. He turned around and rolled me onto my belly. I put a hand on my cunt, rubbing myself to keep my cum climb. R gets up and walks over to the other side of the room. It’s dark and I hear some clanging in the ice bucket. He comes back to the bed where I’m frigging myself.

In the dim light I see a bottle and a martini glass, which he puts on the bedside table. He unscrews the cap and leans over my ass, bucking slowly with my rubbing. Spreading my cheeks, I feel the pour of icy vodka down my crack, dribbling around my tight hole down to my pussy. I then unexpectedly feel his tongue licking the rim of my brownie, drinking the vodka from my cheeks and crack.

“Mmmmm, oh that’s good,” he whispers, licking a bit more aggressively. His tongue pierces my brown flower and it gives slightly, allowing him in.

“Ahhhhhh,” I moan, “You never did this to me back then, where did you learn this?”

“You are sensational, Miche, don’t talk, just feel all the pleasure I’m going to give you,” he responded as he jammed his mouth around my pucker and his tongue penetrated my rectum, licking as much as he could, trying to dig the insides out. I was swooning, my hand deep in my pussy, everything wet with girl slime, piss, and now vodka.

I’m so close I start heaving as my roller coaster ride begins. The waves begin to wash over everything and my ass bucks into his mouth as I come. I scream out in ecstacy, “ohh, yaaa… Yes, yes, yes, R…” and I’m coming harder and harder. Pulling his face off he firmly gets a finger in my ass, pushing it deep. My coming is causing my ass to grip his finger deeper into me.

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