Tara under the Banyan Tree

Turning slightly in my seat I bent down over him, my mouth just a finger nail away from the swollen head, I open my lips, my tongue flicking out licking his wet cock head, and tasting its salty extract. A moment later hot white aromatic spurts of semen hit the roof of my mouth, my tongue, my face and hair. It seemed he would never stop flowing down my throat. I was drinking him. It was intoxicating, a shameless delight as I swallowed him and licked him from my lips. I lifted my head to show him I had accepted his gift, and kissed his cheek to thank him, but he wasn't finished, his soft cock now cooling in my hand he began again on my button, and I quickly came, shivering on his fingertips.

A few moments later he left and sliding back into his original seat, gave me a smile and a silent mouthed thank you from his lips. I blew him a kiss, and wondered what a mess I must be.

A few minutes later I got up and taking down my travel case from the stowage locker went towards the toilet at the front.

Pulling back the screen I almost jumped as the blond stewardess with a finger to her lips smiled, and offering to take my case showed me to the toilet. Shaking her head, and showing me all I needed to clean myself lay in sanitised wrappers on the shelves. She closed the door, and I turned to lock it, with a giggle and a hope she would return I left it. I took out a pack of wet wipes and began with my hair. I could still taste him on my tongue. It was a mixture of many things none of which was unpleasant.

I combed my hair looking at myself in the mirror. Miss Tara Richardson five-foot-six, one-hundred and twenty three pounds, thirty-four double D, twenty-three waist, thirty-five hips, and size eight dress.

The door suddenly opened and I jumped. The mirror quivered and reflected back over my shoulder the face of Musharraf Qaisrani. From his position looking down at me his presence overwhelmed me. My gaze took in the man in a moment, and I knew instinctively why he was here.

I tried to take in his size, and I immediately became aware of my breasts showing my quickening breath, and my erect nipples revealing my emotions. In my eyes he was tall and strong, not big but proportioned with broad alethic shoulders tapering in his fitted shirt to slim hips, and down to powerful legs. But it was his face that held me, the straight nose separating those twin large brown eyes devoid of any emotion. Below his mouth held a smile of appreciation those eyes would never give. There was nothing soft in this man, he commanded and others obeyed, for now I realized I was in the presence of the most powerful man I had ever met.

His hands went to my hips, my skirt hem rising. I thought of my thong, and blushed when I remember the blond man slipping them into his pocket. He bent and kissed my neck and slowly pulled up my dress. I lifted my arms to help him, and a moment later the naked me stared back from the mirror. I felt his hands slide under my arms, his long fingers lifting each of my breasts, the fingernails stroking my eager nipples. I leaned back against him watching those fingers feeling them on my taught skin. Those eyes held me and I saw and felt his hand slide down the flat tense plain of my stomach, and knowing what his hand would find as the fingers slid over my smooth waxed pubis. He stroked me for a moment.

He bent me towards the sink, my breasts hanging down, and my face watching my alto ego in the mirror. His hand ran down my back, my bottom and over my thigh, as though he was calming me soothing me before he took his pleasure from me. His hand cupped my sex parting my lips stroking my clit. Those long strange fingers caressing me making me throb, shiver, awakening me with emotions so intense I was panting. A finger went to my opening and gently massaged the tissue around it. I arched my back to open my sex for him, he pushed his finger gently into me and I moaned. Satisfied I was ready; he took my hair in his fist and moved behind me, I felt it touch my right cheek sliding along my soft yielding flesh. It was steely hard and I wanted it. He took the head of his cock and slowly moved it between my slippery lips. It felt huge, but I thought it was only perception, I was so sensitive now I clenched my belly and spread my thighs wider, I wanted him my body begged for him, he stood behind me and I felt the head touch my vulva. I gasped. With my hair in his fist he smiled down at me and thrust in. I cried out and his hand went to my mouth. Tears flowed down my cheek, whilst he entered me cautiously; it was huge like a bar of heated iron. I tried to relax take deep breaths through his fingers, my thighs quivering under the pressure of his brutal hardness. I could not stop him filling me, almost tearing me. I clung to the sink, sobbing, moaning and crying out unintelligible words into his scented hand. I could not feel anything else I was impaled on a monster. I had been a virgin once, but this made me feel I was again. I turned to look at his face, but he pulled my hair hard. He did not want to see me, he was in my saddle and I was to be ridden. The final thrust made me gag, and cry out in the final pain of taking all of the monster, and my surprise at the depth of my vagina. He waited a few moments for me to become use to him, but I could only feel the hardness the brutality of such a thing, it was made to command to dominate and subdue any female. It was a weapon. Slowly he pulled out drawing a sigh from me. I felt suddenly empty and my body wanted it back. Slowly he began to flex his muscles, stomach and thighs, I felt him turning the shaft, using its thickness and rigidity to soften up and laterally distend my interior tissue. I was being prepared for only one thing.

Gradually he began to move in me as I tried to come to terms with my soreness, my sexuality and something deep within me that wanted more. I was uncontrollable; my body demanded what my mind could not cope with. I was being used and I loved it. The man was working me like a bitch on heat, we knew nothing of each other, yet what was inside me knew more of me than I could ever know. He filled my body my mind my sensations, it slid in and I cried out, it moved back, and I whimpered for it to return. He was the complete master of my body. In the mirror my breasts swung obediently to his thrusting the nipples searching for something to touch. My buttocks clenched and the man spanked my right one hard, I yelped, a moment of fire, that was quenched by the moisture that poured from me around his shaft. I tried again to look into his eyes but he ignored me, as he looked down between my parted cheeks at his cock thrust like a piston into me. I was close now clenching him drawing him into my raw body. His fist tightened around my tresses, and he pulled my head back, I could feel his hard belt buckle on my behind, and his heavy balls spanking my clit. I was suspended on a bar of steel. I whimpered but it brought only harder thrusting. Tara Richardson was being brutally fucked, and I was flooding with emotions of pure animalistic pleasure.

Sensations flowed, fullness, pain, shock, and sheer wantonness. I bucked against him wanting more from him, yet even as my body packed my mind with sensations. He was in control of me, working me on his manhood almost breaking my body to his will.

His hands slid around and under my taught belly, the long fingers stroking the button of my sobbing sex. I arched biting my lip, to stop myself from crying out; I shuddered and blossom around the embedded shaft my body shaking with the intensity of my racking orgasm. I felt him hold me against his throbbing cock, as he thrust hard into me almost lifting me off my feet, as with sudden expansion and pulsation the organ that was piercing me spurted warm soothing sperm into my raw body.

Slowly I came down and calm filled me, the man never spoke sliding his softening cock out of me, I felt the wet phallus cool against my smarting skin. He took some tissues and cleaned himself and zipping up his trousers turned and walked out of the toilet closing the door behind him.