Online Playmate Ch. 04

"Oh Babe," he moaned, slowing his pace, running his hands lightly up and down my back as he eased in and out a few last times. He pulled out and splayed my cheeks open again. "That is one nicely fresh-fucked asshole," he commented, watching his drool spill from me as I clenched my muscles again, feeling strangely empty. I hadn't expected it to be anything like that and wished I had done it sooner now. I was glad though that Mark had been the one to pop my anal cherry. Someone else may not have been so considerate.

We cleaned up and assisted each other in peeing, his was more like a hindrance than assistance though as it is extremely difficult to piss when someone is playing with your pussy. I always thought I could do two things at once, but I was sadly mistaken. It made him smile though.

Back in front of the fire, we cuddled up, eventually tangling ourselves into a lovers knot, he licked and suckled my cunt into two more explosive orgasms and I returned the favour, squeezing one more out of him into my hungry mouth. We both slept very well that night and woke up in the same position we had fallen asleep in.

The next morning I was sore, no surprises there. We didn't make love initially, but after a slow tortuous head job I didn't give myself a chance to internally argue. I loved to suck him off and it turned me on so totally. I climbed aboard the love train and rode him for twenty minutes before his teasing fingers found my throbbing clit, bringing us both off together. It was a long, slow, mutually satisfying screw and I lay with him for several minutes in the afterglow before my need for coffee and a pee took over the controls.

We showered and left for Sydney soon after brunch, spending the day in Darling Harbour so he could see a few of the sights. I couldn't have done it again that afternoon, my body was worn out. I had never had so much primal sex in such a short period of time in my life, especially when adding the back door shuffle into the equation.

We ate in one of the restaurants downstairs that night, then saw 'West Side Story' which was playing in the Casino's Lyric theatre. After, we finally made use of the spa in the suite and then fell into bed, exhausted. Well, I for one was and still wasn't up for another heated bout, but graciously attended to his personal swelling before falling asleep.

His last day came around too quickly, tomorrow morning he would need to be at the airport by 9.00 am for the international check-in, so needed to make the most of our last 24 hours. "So, Kings Cross I believe you wanted to see before leaving?"

"But it's Monday morning," he said, a little surprised.

"The Cross doesn't sleep honey; it's open for business 24/7."

"Then The Cross it is!"

The cab dropped us off at the head of The Cross, the bend of the dog leg which brought the two main roads together, next to a massive fountain display. "Where to first?" I asked.

"You've been here before?"

"Many times when I lived down here," I laughed, "but only into the clubs, usually after work on Friday nights. I've got a friend here who manages 'Kandy's Korner', but once again, it's a night club not a strip club."

"I'm easy," he said and I grinned at him. This had been proven over and over again in the last 6 days. He smirked back at me, understanding my unspoken jibe.

"Looking for anything in particular?"

"Let's window shop."

We strolled down the main strip, spotting a wide array of people; hookers -- both real women and drag queens, homeless people, thugs, crazies, old men asleep on park benches -- you name it, The Cross had it. Some of it was very shady and undesirable. The key was to not make eye contact, as with any area similar to this, anywhere in the world. I knew a lot of what happened in The Cross was underground and I had no intention of looking that deeply into the cess pool today.

The barkers outside called their fares as we passed, "Strippers! Lap dances, private dances, come in and see. Something for the lady, something for the gent!" As we approached the third barker in a string of about 20 I asked him about live sex shows.

"Two doors down sweetie," he said and recommenced his spiel. Even at 10.00 am on a Monday morning there were throngs of people gadding about.

It took a while for our eyes to adjust once we'd reached the end of the disco-lighted hallway. "Table or booth?" a young girl asked us, chewing and cracking her gum noisily.

"Booth," I answered and she led us to a vacant one, not far from the front of the room. It would give us a nice clear view.

"Whadda ya wanna drink?"

"Two stubbies of Fosters thanks." I didn't particularly want to drink from a glass. I handed her a red-back and wasn't expecting much change.

"I'll pay for the drinks Babe," Mark chastised and we sat, his arm around my shoulders. She brought our beers a few minutes later, slamming them and my change consisting of a two dollar coin on the table.

"Keep the change," I told her and she smiled, slipping it into the apron around her waist.

"Thank ya," she shot out and minced off, looking almost ridiculous in her 6 inch stilettos and bone thin legs.

I took a sip of beer and scoped out the room. There were a lot of couples here and a booth or two with a few men and one woman. Possibly a hostess... They would have been paying top-dollar for the privilege of her company, not to mention her skills.

The two women currently on stage were performing a rather acrobatic pole dance, coming together at times for a heated kiss before springing back into their act. This was met well with a group of rowdy businessmen in the rear of the club. I looked to Mark, gauging his reaction and he smiled lecherously at me.

"This was a great idea Babe" he growled and leant in to kiss me, ending up with my back on the seat of the booth. I was a little flustered when I sat up, surveying the room to see if anyone had been watching. This made Mark laugh. "I don't think they care what we're up to." I went to rebuke him and was interrupted by the dancers leaving the stage, the music changing to a sultry wail of a saxophone which signalled a change in events. Mark stood and removed his coat, for reasons unknown to me at that stage. I was to soon find out...

A man with a cock of Everest walked onto the stage. My eyes nearly fell out of my head; I'd never seen anyone built like him before in my life, including porno movies and magazines. How did he walk upright? His frame was slight and I recalled a comment a friend of mine had said years ago -- the skinny ones all have massive dicks; they've had the goodness sucked out of them. Maybe she was right...

"Something for your Christmas stocking Babe?" Mark purred into my ear.

"I wouldn't know where to put it," I laughed back. A chesty, short blonde joined him and scene 1, act 1 commenced -- suck that massive cock. Mark hitched my knee over his, pulling my legs wide and I looked at him and smiled. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing Babe..." he mused, running his hand over my thigh, working the material of my skirt up as his hand slipped surreptitiously underneath. He leant in and whispered, "Someone forgot to put their panties on!" My face was hot, but this time it wasn't from a blush. His lips worked around my throat as a finger slipped into my pussy, teasing gently. "This is so hot..." he exhaled in my ear, flicking his tongue around the edge, driving me insane.

"You're going to make me melt," I sighed and he chuckled lowly, reaching down to unzip his pants, easing them down slightly. He covered our laps with his jacket and reached for my hand. I now had my own big cock in my grasp and understood him removing his jacket, as innocent as it initially seemed.

When the fucking started on stage I was no longer concerned about the rest of the crowd, they ceased to exist and the throbbing in my cunt was amplifying. All I wanted to do was to writhe my hips against the grain of the booth. Mark and I played with each other, watching the erotic scene in front of us, both worked up to the point of wanting to now fuck each other.

"Sit on my lap," he whispered although there was no point, no one would be able to hear over the music.

"Mark! No..." I said, flustered. "I can't do that here."

"Do you think anyone else will care, look around..." And I did.

There was not one pair of hands on the tables, including those who were sitting on their own. One guy was getting his cock worked over diligently by a satin-gloved companion, and at another booth a couple was doing exactly what Mark had suggested of me. She was sitting on his lap and there was no allusion to being a ventriloquist and his dummy, she was getting right into it. It reminded me of when I first watched 'Shocking Asia' in my teens and of the old biddies humping away on the dildos built into the chairs in the porn houses. I suppressed a smile; this was neither the time nor place for such hilarity.

Having knocked him back, Mark held me open with his index and ring fingers, letting his middle one circle me toward insanity. I was so wet his touch was silken and he was obviously intent on getting me off whilst we sat here enjoying the show. I realised that he was going to get his way. I tried to move away from him, but there was nowhere to go, so grabbed his hand. He reached over and pulled mine from his, kissing me deeply, strengthening his force.

"Mark..." I groaned.

"Babe," he teased back.

"Let me do you."

"Let me do you!" he growled and the tingle in my abdomen signalled it was too late, I was cumming. "Watch them fucking, open your eyes." I tried to stay motionless but my body had other ideas, rearing up against Mark's hand, now flattened against me.

As I rode over his hand, he leant in to kiss me again and my breath caught in my throat, feasting off him hungrily. I couldn't get enough of him into my mouth and as I waned, he trailed his tongue down the V of my shirt, flicking open the buttons and sucking a hard nipple between his lips. My body was electric and considering our surroundings, thought what the hell. Easing him off me, I bent into his lap, taking his pulsing cock into my mouth. It didn't take long... He fired his hot spunk down my throat at the same time as the 'Mr Hillary' of the porn-set shot massive streams all over the open-mouthed wench now kneeling in front of him.

We ate before leaving The Cross, and in the actual dining experience this time, choosing 'Ye Olde Tavern' situated at the intersection of the dog leg where we'd been dropped off. It was a popular restaurant and also nite-spot after hours. I had been downstairs many times over the years but had never eaten here. I'd been told it was a wonderful meal and it met every expectation.

Back at the hotel I asked him what he wanted to do, which was a pretty stupid question in hindsight. Neither of us wanted to leave the room until check-out tomorrow morning and we set about making it our own private nudist colony for the remainder of the time we had left -- with exception of letting in the room service attendant.

I had the alarm set for 5.00 am and when it rang we wasted no time in making our last one something to remember. We started with many, many long, deep kisses, trying to imprint the feel of his lips, the curve of his spine, the warmth of his chest, his taste and sounds.

His lips were on mine, our breath hot and vital as he teased and separated, feeling his way into my pussy with his sightless fingers. Eventually, his insatiable mouth once again took over. "We've got a little erection going on here," he crooned, easing up the hood of my clit with two fingers, running his tongue over the exposed sensitivity gently. He nibbled lightly, rolling it around in his mouth which achieved his desired effect as I came all over his face, pulling him against me forcefully as I bucked under him, his morning stubble rasping over my sweetness.

He smiled at me teasingly as he moved up alongside me, nuzzling at my ear and throat. "You're a wonderful lover, Mark." His reply was gestured through his lips, back on mine; softly, tenuously, caressingly. His hands moved back down my body, foraging and finding. His cock was like granite and pressed into my thigh, but he wouldn't let me reach for him. He was truly giving me a memory to keep pressed between the pages of my internal photo album.

He watched my facial expressions react to his touch as he grazed his fingertips across my nipples. I closed my eyes and slightly arched my back, forcing my body into his hands. He lowered his lips to mine once more. As he listened to my breathy moans the lightly feathered kisses became more urgent. Unable to withstand the delicious torture any longer, he moved across me, and finally, into me.

We moved together, slowly at first, with him at times transposing me fluidly from top to bottom in a sporadic, flowing dance. Finally, with me still on top, his motion became more critical, his hands on my hips bringing me into his rhythm. A hiss escaped his lips as he threw back his head.

We lay entangled in each other with the heat subsided for now; neither of us moving. I looked through hooded eyes and noted random pieces of our clothing scattered around the room. Limp, worn, dishevelled; this was the image they projected back at us. About half an hour later, his fingers were once again seeking out my viscous heat.

The urgency and incitement that had resonated through our first bout of love making was replaced by a more delicate and sensitive aura. The gentle and soothing replaced the cymbal crashes and lightning strikes; sculpting my excitement to an even deeper level. His hands and lips were soft and slow, working their magic on me in an entirely different fashion.

My breathy sighs soon spiralled into loud groans. Mark kissed me deeply as I started to climax, covering his hand with my own. "Baby, you take my breath away," he purred, slowly entering me. "Do you know how I long for you?" he whispered in my ear, maintaining his languid pace. Did he know what these sweet nothings were doing to me? "I can't stop thinking about you; you're always on my mind." He stopped his motion and gazed into my eyes, "I'll never let you go."

My breathing was shallow, my pulse racing again; his words caressed me like his skilled musician hands. He kissed me more aggressively as he started the delicious grind again. His tongue ran lightly over my lips before sucking my bottom one into his mouth, gently biting it, his controlled tempo unwavering as he moaned into my mouth. All of these little nuances were amplifying me whilst his tongue lazily traced my own.

His mouth moved to my ear, his breath hot, "Hmmm," he sighed, holding me tightly as he rolled onto his back, putting me in control of the pace. As I writhed atop him, my hands found their way to my breasts, fondling them for both mine and his pleasure. "Oh God Babe," he panted, sliding his finger around my pulsing clit. Seconds later I was going over the edge again; so deeply, so intensely, nothing like the other orgasms had been. Mark's slow, tormenting and sensual explorations had brought me to the highest of crescendos which quickly became a duet. He sat up, laying me slightly backward, our connection becoming horizontal. Shortly thereafter he clung to me tightly as his body went rigid, his breathing erratic. We stayed like that for several minutes, just drawing off each other's ebbing intensity, holding as much of me as was possible against his body.

We'd checked out by 8.30 and when Mark went to finalise the bill charged to the room I went to argue with him. "Mark, this is supposed to be my gift to you. How are you going to explain it when it turns up on the credit card bill?"

"Relax Babe, it's only a few hundred dollars, more than reasonable expenses for a week away." I didn't want to ruin a wonderful week by continuing to push this, so let him pay for it.

And there we were, in the airport, an hour before his plane departed. I didn't know whether to stay with him until he left or leave now to avoid the goodbyes. "So your turn to come to me next," he said, taking my hand.

"Shall we try for every six months rotation?"

"That sounds good."

"How about we move it to mid spring, otherwise it will always be winter when either of us is visiting."

"That sounds even better. I guess I'll see you in a few months then?"

We briefly discussed the optimal meeting place, not wanting to be in his immediate locale. Another state was decided on and approximate dates were set. It would be time for another 'business trip' for him by then.

And then he was boarding, and then he was gone, after a flurry of last minute kisses. I sighed heavily and made my way back to the car. They say you can never go home, whoever the hell 'they' are, but they were right. Considering the sexual awakenings I'd been treated to over the past week, it would be a hard act to follow and we'd fit together so well, like sexual jig-saw puzzle pieces. Three months, I reminded myself...

Roughly 36 hours later I was at my PC and a messenger window appeared. 'Hi Babe!' and then a video call prompt came through.

"Made it home safely then? That's good."

"Was a pretty good flight too, but enough of that. Show me where I last put my cock." I laughed and started to undress, all under his watchful eye.