Erin and I

A late winter storm dropped its white load with minimal interruptions and no apparent finale while I was asleep next to Erin in room twenty-five of the historic V Hotel. I woke to her long manicured fingers stroking me virtually in rhythm with the ticking antique clock that lie on the bedside dresser. It's agreed-upon that we aren't a committed couple, but we do habitually share a bed. Together we dissolve our feelings of loneliness with near overdoses of sex. I have been told that I wreak of it. Erin said she thought so when we met.

"Your eyes penetrated me like your cock does now. You are all about sex, like me."

I'm 50 she's 29. She doesn't consider it awkward since her father is a decade and a half my senior. She did say,

"When I decided I liked you, your age only mattered because I wanted to know what it'd be like to fuck a man so much older than me."

Erin is tall, all legs, taller than me, but not a big girl. Her breasts are plump and firm. They sit on her chest like they're tucked into a pushup bra, but its a deception, a magician's handy work or simply genetics, because Erin, never wears a bra. Her ass is made to park in and after several times together, I found out that she'd suggest I did. Her hair is straight and pitch black like the eyeliner she wears. It recklessly falls thick on her shoulders and around her cheeks. Mine is cut short and pepper grey. Erin's eyes are a brilliant green, mine are big and brown like a deers'. She has a slight overbite so her lips are always a bit parted, moist and inviting. My teeth are straight only thanks to braces. Erin and I have the same problem, our transient acts of physical pleasures consume us, are empty, destructive and never lead to meaningful relationships. Doesn't matter their names, we have a constant craving to seduce and are well practiced at it. Erin and I never actually date, we get sexually involved. We are both at a minimum, borderline sex addicts reluctant to admit it. If we're fortunate we'll get two or three times with our catch. When they are no longer desirable, the high long past, we track down other men and women who are willing to own the same risks or who are unaware that they are merely prey.

After a year, I know Erin well. We talk and laugh together often and not just between bed linens, blankets, or her bent over upholstered chairs. When we're not having sex she likes to tell me all the minuet details of her artificial dating life.

"I haven't slept with him YET."

She says her thoughts get scattered and mind blurred when she tries to truly date.

"I know when they want to HAVE me though."

Erin desperately wants another baby. She reminds me of that frequently. When I let go on her, she'll whine as she smears me over her hard nippled bust,

"Aren't you a healthy man. Look how much there is, what a waste. All that could make a baby boy."

Wandering around the city for no good reason, maybe lunch, we intentionally scout for women I'd like to pounce on, and too for men she'd like to be on her knees for. We are both straight. Sometimes we agree on potential partners, sometimes not. I have been known to say,

"I would break that."

Erin laughs. She enjoys looking at women sensuously, but insists she would never sleep with one. She would however like to see me wear a belle out. Erin attended a southern university thus the charming reference.

"My panties would be drenched if I watched you fuck someone else." Then changing her mind, "No I'd get jealous."

Erin wanted us to be a couple early on, still does, but she has an absurd personal life. Her daughters have different fathers, one in and out of jail. She never married either one, but she has been married and divorced. Without steady work, she lives in her childhood home with both her parents. Her oldest daughter is pleasant, her little one has serious behavioral issues. Erin is not convinced that any man would take her and her life on, I disagree. He exists, its just not me. We settled on being friends who frequently undress each other.

Erin has an insatiable palate for sex. She watches porn constantly with total disregard to basic cable programming. She masturbates more than any woman I have ever been with. She plays with herself when I expect her to, when I least expect her too and in places I would never think she would or could. Busy rubbing at her crotch through heavy denim or under a bunched up dress, in time she'll blurt out loud or lean towards me and whisper,

"I just came."

Somehow she'll gather her cream and bring a finger to her mouth to taste herself.

"Want some?"

As if the deed never took place, she's back to doing whatever we were engaged in, usually moving pieces on a chess board.

What I like most about Erin is when she's ready for cock, you know it. She'll drop her panties as hurried as a bullet headed towards it's intended target. Warming up my dick in her hand, she'll bring me to her dewy haven. I slip through as if I'm sliding down a freshly wax papered metal slide at the neighborhood park. Holding her from behind, she grabs onto a bed pillow and clutches it so tightly that its feathers could burst out. Between irregular breaths, she once asked me; said to me,

"Why would ANYONE want to be fucked any other way? You hit places I can't reach."

I didn't answer, but thought, the best position is the one where I'm inside of you or someone else. Public places are not the exception, but rather a preference. Making her short skirt shorter and just enough for me to see she's minus panties, she'll with intent, rise from her chair and walk away. She knows I like sex most when we are both somewhat clothed. She's headed to the ladies room or a secluded hallway, maybe an empty stairway she knows about. The game is, find me, fuck me and I'll suck on your cock till you make a mess in my mouth.

Deep into our second night stay and now snowed in, Erin wanted another blanket. I found my shorts, pulled them on and left the room. I made my way down the faint lit hardwood stairs. The hotel has just two floors. And the entry space looks more like a wealthy family's living room then a drab commercial motel lobby. I walked past the front desk and down the first floor hall. I expected it would be empty, but there stood a striking mid-aged woman surrounded by a few pieces of luggage. She was busy placing her room key into the lock. No words where spoken, but I am certain that this woman, who had my immediate attention, noticed my stare as she reached back for her bags. Quick, my mind skipped from the blanket task to, mmm what I could do with you. She went into her room and the door clicked closed.

I found the clerk in his office and asked him for another blanket. He retrieved one from a hall closet, handed it to me and I returned to our room. Erin was playing with her shiny pink button watching porn on her laptop. She heard the door open, looked over, but didn't stop. She simply said,

"Hey you."

I tossed the blanket to the floor and walked to the other side of the bed. Facing her, I took my renewed rigid branch out of my shorts and held it near her face. She lowered her mouth on me and soon her spit fell to the sheets like thick oil running down a steel pole. I pulled her further to the edge of the bed and moved from her mouth and placed my dick along her narrow.

"Rub on me." she said and turned to lie on her stomach.

Erin takes delight in me pressing down hard on the small of her back while I am in and almost out of her. It doesn't allow her to move freely.

"That makes me cream."

Her groin muscles tighten powerfully down on me, then in a raspy, trying to catch her breath voice she manages,

"Cum in me." Now demanding, "I want to feel you. When you cum in me you get bigger."

Finished for now, we do eventually fall to sleep. But we're never done. Erin is curled up and I'm in REM, but when I wake full again, I'll brush her thigh with a hand. And while the weapon that pleases her is pressed against her ass cheeks, she instinctively parts her legs. Incredibly her inside is still liquid. Facing away from me and never lifting her head off the pillow, she'll call out my name as I empty into her. She falls back to sleep maybe reasoning it was just part of a dream? I am not sure if she is ever truly awake.

By 10 am the snow had stopped. Erin finished sucking my cock, her cheek covered with my cum, she smiled at me and swallowed. Wiping her mouth with the side of her hand then licking a finger, she decided it was a good time to go home and look after her daughters. They were with their grandparents. I shoveled her truck out. And after the interior had warmed, she backed up, spun the tires until they grabbed some clear pavement and drove away planning to return before lunch tomorrow. Back inside I sat and reclined on a well worn wooden rocker. A few creaks and a squeak later I felt a presence behind me. I turned left and recognized the face as the woman I'd seen last night.

"Are you enjoying the snow?"

"Yes, I prefer fall, but this is a good place to be stranded for a couple of days."

"It's a treat for us, my daughter and I, we live in the valley."

My eyes were fixed on her with ambition. I created pictures in my head, actually vignettes of her being my slut.

I considered, decided, that she must be married. I searched her ring finger, it was bare, but that isn't uncommon, some men can't afford two months salary on a diamond like the DeBeers ad preaches.

"My daughter spent last night with her little school friend who moved away and now lives here." "Anyway, this is a nice place, you're right."

I nodded. I sensed I should do more listening then speaking. I had no intentions of getting verbally in her way.

She asked, "Have you been to the little coffee house next door?"

It precisely was a house. I took in her words, but they translated to she wants someone to play with.

"Would you like to join me?"

She didn't have to ask me a second time. We moved to the front door, I opened it, but instead of her stepping past the threshold onto the shoveled porch, she turned to me and placed her hand at my zipper. Calculating my size, she said,

"I'd like to watch you, watch me, wrap this up with my mouth."

She bit down on her lower lip and my groin came to life like a vampire that had just finished getting his nightly quota of blood. I was solid and I relished her unambiguous method of luring me in. We skipped coffee.

The door to room twenty-five barely shut before my dick was freed of my snow pants. She squatted in front of me and studied her new toy. Holding on to me with a light grasp she brought me to her lips. Looking up, her eyes peering intensely into mine she said,

"I like it slow."

My length disappeared down her throat. She knew exactly when to start and stop so that I wouldn't bust too soon. She drooled over my stuff literally, which made it easier for her to tug on me until she was ready to put me back in her mouth. Her tongue worked my underside and up to the bit of loose skin left there post my infantile circumcision. When she brought me to near spilling, I pulled away, took her by the shoulders, lifted her to her feet, then sat her back down on the edge of the bed. She pulled her sweater over her head while I undid the rivet at her waist. I slid her jeans away and placed my hand lightly on her knee. Her legs fell apart as freely as water moves through a brook. I shifted her plain white panties aside to survey her playground. Her outer lips were firm, full, flush and had perfect symmetry. I couldn't see her inner folds, only her shy hood. As I caressed her inner thighs, she opened herself up to me with two or three fingers. I could see that her entry lay high just under her clitoris. I had long theorized that women with a high opening tended to come easily and often when fucked. I traced her wispy line of pubis hair then continued down to where her slash ended. When I did so a second time she arched her hips off the bed. I kneeled down and my tongue found the spot where her long ago, post virginal tear remained. Her pink insides were gleaming and I wanted to tap her creamery. I didn't mind that she held my head where she liked, as long as she liked.

I didn't need to be reminded that she preferred slow sex. I put the head of my cock in her just enough that she lifted her head off the mattress and bent at the waist so she could see between her legs.

"I like to watch myself being fucked." I remarked,

"I like that you fuck with your eyes open."

She pushed and held her breasts together hard as I purposely took myself away and back again, away and back just within her passage. After a while she appealed to me,

"Put it in."

I drew her hips toward me and breached her with my full reach. It was as if I had arrived in a foreign country that felt like home, like I'd been there before. I repeatedly entered her and not quite exited her as sedately as I could pausing only to stay in command of myself.

I budged her figure to its right side. She looked back at me, eyes wide, waiting for me to pierce her again. She was biting her lower lip from which pleasing elementary noises came and then an articulate,

"fuck my tiny hole."

She guided my cock out of her sweet spot then helped me push through her snug ass opening. When she was satisfied I removed myself from her as she sat up,

"I want to taste me on you."

She poured her mouth over me like morning sunlight through parted drapes. Tasting her treat and still dictating her will, she said,

"Feed me."

I finished myself off dropping yet another self gratifying load. She spread my cum about then lifted it up in thin treads repeatedly before swallowing it. I still didn't know her name. I only knew that she had a daughter and they lived in Phoenix. Time pushed into early evening and her cell rang. In a casual, unhurried manner, she hung halfway off the bed and reached out toward the nearby grey winged chair. She tossed aside her blouse and found the muffled ringing under our scattered clothing. In that instance I didn't see a woman answering a phone, but rather envisioned her sitting on the chair, her feet up on the cushion pressing her breasts together asking me to fuck them. She rolled over near me, put a finger to her lips and said hello. Our time together was now in the past, already a memory I could jerk off to. She spoke briefly with, I concluded, the mother of her daughter's friend.

"Hi Erin, yes I'll be there soon."

She left the bed and dressed, didn't speak and didn't look at me. I heard the stained wood door open and close behind her.

The next morning my fix stood with her daughter at the front desk checking out. I was toasting a complimentary cinnamon raisin bagel. She now plainly viewed me as just another hotel guest who by chance, chose the same accommodations. Again she left me without a word. Erin returned from the time spent with her daughters and made her way to where I sat.

"The girls ok?"

She nodded yes, touched my arm and mentioned that they were still wired after their sleepover the previous night. With a familiar look she said,

"I'll be upstairs."

I handed her our room key and she too vanished. I was certain I'd find her ready to be drilled when I got back to the room. With three worn travel bags in hand my latest fuck returned, her timing such that Erin was no longer in view. She ushered her daughter ahead then turned back to me. I acknowledged her glance and spontaneously half smiled. She knew Erin. The front door closed. I was vacant. This sort of pleasure, takes you in deep, but then spits you out hard. I thought, I am a sex addict. And then I was in Erin.

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