The Escape

"My wife thinks I'm at work," I said, deciding to go for broke and tell the big-titted blonde in the tiny black bikini the truth, "but I've got a room at that hotel there. Want to come up to it and get fucked by a married man?"

Her golden skin glistening in the mid-morning Atlantic sun, the curvaceous beach bunny tilted her sunglasses down and squinted her blue eyes up at me, as though momentarily considering my lewd offer. I could already imagine myself unloading the contents of my swollen balls between her pink, pouty lips.

Then she laughed cruelly and rolled over on her taut stomach, the thin, ebony string of her microscopic thong bisecting the full, tanned mounds of her buttocks.

I turned and padded up the sand toward the hotel, glancing back occasionally to wistfully ogle that beautiful ass and worrying that I might have risked both my job and my marriage to drive out here to the coast for nothing. I certainly wasn't looking forward to driving all the way back home nursing the aching hard-on I'd been sporting since first spying the buxom Barbie doll sunning her nearly naked body, nor did I savor the idea of capping my unplanned excursion off with a quick and unsatisfying jerk-off in my room.

Thankfully, the petite brunette prostitute in the hotel bar was far more receptive to my little sob story about suburban malaise and needing a real woman to remind me what it meant to be a man. She wasn't as voluptuous as the flaxen-haired bimbo on the beach, but she had all the right parts in all the right places. She was lean and cute, small tits perky and pointy beneath the tight fabric of the blue mini-dress that brought out a mischievous sparkle in her big, smoky eyes. The bottom of the dress barely covered the perfectly round hills of her heart-shaped ass, and the alabaster legs that stretched from high hem to three-inch stiletto heels were toned and defined like a dancer's. Long, dark hair that cascaded halfway down her back and a wide, full-lipped mouth completed the appealing picture.

If I was going to have to pay for it, I could do a hell of a lot worse.

She said her name was Sarah, and she wasted no time indicating her eagerness to give me the sort of experience I was looking for, in exchange for fair monetary compensation. As she was leaning close and discreetly running her hand over the throbbing bulge in my pants right there in the dimly lit bar, she quoted a figure into my ear which I knew would drain my wallet of the last of the cash I'd withdrawn from the ATM that morning. But under the circumstances, with her fingers and palm skillfully rubbing and squeezing my rock-hard dick through the fabric of my slacks, I was in no mood or position to negotiate. I'd come to the coast looking for a little life-affirming infidelity, and Sarah was offering me a deal I simply could not refuse. I happily paid in advance.

We rode the elevator up to my room on the seventh floor, Sarah sticking close to my side during the ascent and continuing her exquisite massage of my engorged member through my pants. Part of me knew that her enthusiasm for working my cock was simply her priming me for a fast release once we got upstairs, so she could get out and get back to her bar stool as quickly as possible. Still, I was not about to resist. If she ended up milking the cum from my nuts with her left hand right there in the elevator, before we ever made it to the room, I could still go back to my dreary day-to-day life knowing I'd gotten a mind-blowing public handjob from a beautiful stranger when I was supposed to be sifting through a crushing mountain of tedious paperwork and dying an agonizingly slow death behind a cheap desk. It wouldn't be quite as good a memory as grabbing a handful of her black hair and pumping my seed into her tight ass, or plastering her spritely boobs with creamy ejaculate, but it still wouldn't be a bad way to end my impromptu personal day.

Just when I was certain her skilful hand ministrations were going to leave me with an empty billfold and a sticky stain on the inside of my boxers, the elevator bell rang and the doors opened to the seventh floor hallway. I hurried Sarah to room 714, ushering her inside and locking the door behind us. No sooner had I set the deadbolt and turned around than the raven-haired harlot was squatting in front of me, unzipping my fly and wresting my stiff rod from my pants.

"Mmm," she purred as she considered it. "What a nice cock!" Sincere or not, it was a sweet thing to say about my relatively average-sized erection, and ordinarily I'd have given her high marks for the extra friendly customer service. At that moment, however, I wasn't interested in hearing her talk about my dick. I was interested in feeling her suck on it. I grabbed the back of her pretty little head and forced my tool between her lips, sliding it as far down her throat as I could go before she could protest.

To her credit, she neither gagged nor resisted. She simply let the fat, curved staff slide over her tongue and into her warm, wet gullet, humming as though the reddened, inflated meat was the most delicious thing she'd ever tasted, her pert little nose burrowing into my curly pubic hair. The initial thrust into her mouth made her involuntarily hold her hands up in surprise, but as she began to slowly slide my boner in and out of her sucking oral canal, the fingers of her left hand encircled the shaft and pumped in time with her lips while those of her right set about massaging my ball sack through the crotch of my pants.

My wife Emily rarely went down on me anymore, believing as many women seem to that blowjobs are things single girls do to catch a man, rather than something married women do to keep one satisfied. Though my betrothed had been reasonably skilled and spirited in the fellatio department in the early days of our relationship, performing the act with gusto and routinely sucking me off when I least expected such attention, the few headjobs I'd gotten at home in recent years were administered with all of the enthusiasm and technique she put into washing dishes or mopping the floor. These days it was all a singular in-and-out proposition, monotonous and mechanical head-bobbing (always in the bedroom, lying prone on the bed) with very little use of her hands and the occasional grunt or curt exhalation implying that I needed to hurry up and finish or I might end up left to my own devices. Though occasionally fantasizing about other women while Emily blew me was always a part of our sex life, it had become a necessity in recent years, because it was hard to maintain my arousal - much less build to a climax - when the person going down on me clearly took no joy whatsoever in the endeavor.

Sarah, on the other hand, displayed no such distaste for swallowing my dick. Indeed, she took her time savoring the thing, humming and moaning softly as she drew it in and out of her velvet mouth with excruciating deliberateness. Her little tongue snaked and slithered around the underside of my manhood, gliding over bulging veins and electrified nerve endings, probing for the most sensitive spots and remaining on each as long as possible before setting out to locate more. Each time she pulled her lips back over the purple-red flesh, her lips left a fine film of slick, warm saliva, and the trailing fingers of her left hand used that silky spit as lube to facilitate their own gentle milking of the bloated shaft. Her right hand gently cupped and kneaded at the testicles dangling below, rhythmically stoking the man-milk within to the point of boiling over.

Standing there with my back against the door, fingers clutching at the back of Sarah's head, cock plunging in and out of her suctioning mouth, balls and shaft being meticulously primed for firing by pumping, stroking fingers, I wanted nothing more than to let go of the volcanic pressure building within my rod and let a sackful of viscous cream explode right into the hooker's hungry belly. I may have even said the words "I'm going to cum!" aloud, though I was so delirious with pleasure at that moment that I still can't be entirely sure. All I know for certain is that just a few more strokes of those magnificent lips and that clenched left fist and I was going to cum harder than I'd ever cum before.

Sarah suddenly stopped, releasing my dick and looking up at me. "No," she said, a cunning smile on her face.

"What?" I muttered, shocked. "You can't just leave me hanging!"

She shook her head. "Oh, I'm not going to leave you hanging," she said, rising from her squatting position. "I just want you to get your money's worth. And I think I know just the thing for a neglected husband whose life has gotten a little dull!"

She quickly pulled the little blue dress up over her head and tossed it aside, revealing a tight, compact hourglass frame that suddenly made me wonder if I was underpaying for her services. Her dark pink nipples were fat and rock hard, her areolas perfectly round, silver dollar-sized circles centered on firm, natural little breasts. Her stomach was even more taut and beautiful than that of the blonde beach babe who'd rejected me a short time earlier, the muscles clearly defined but not overly hard or rigid. Stripped down to only a pair of light yellow panties, her hips looked even more rounded and inviting. She peeled the panties off and dropped them onto the floor, revealing an exquisitely tapered, neatly trimmed diamond of dark, curly hair, pointing down toward the light pink lips of her pussy.

"Follow me," she said with a wink, turning and heading toward the sliding glass balcony doors, her thick little butt wiggling as she walked. I was confused, but there was no way in Hell I was going to argue with a gorgeous naked woman while my aching cock was standing on the brink of a Category 10 eruption.

I followed her out onto the seventh floor balcony, where I found her standing bent over the railing, legs spread a little wider than her shoulders, gorgeous bare ass, glistening snatch, and pretty face all smiling back at me. "If you want to fuck me, married man," she said, "you're going to have to fuck me out here, where the whole damned world can see you do it!"

I looked around, seeing vacationers lounging on the balconies of their rooms in the adjacent hotel, spying couples and families walking and driving around the grounds below, spotting various swimmers and sunbathers (including the big-breasted blonde) frolicking and relaxing on the beach. Fishing and sailing boats cruised by in both directions just out to sea. A twin engine airplane passed over head, trailing a banner advertising a local surf shop. About a mile away, a Coast Guard chopper buzzed over the pier. I looked around and saw that a luscious, naked brunette I'd never seen before in my life was standing spread-eagle on the deck outside my room in broad daylight, begging for me to fill her full of my erect manhood until we both came in full view of God and everyone, and I smiled. In 43 years of life on Earth, I'd never been hornier, and never felt more alive.

When I pressed the fat crown of my dick into the folds of her tiny little puss, Sarah gasped, and I was certain this time that the reaction was a real one. Undoubtedly, she'd had bigger cocks than mine before, and she'd probably done wilder things than get reamed from behind in public. But it was obvious at that moment that this wasn't just a prostitute; this was a woman who worked in the sex business because, deep down inside, she really loved sex. "Oh, yeah," she uttered breathlessly as I pushed my thick prick past the clenching outer muscles of her twat, stretching them and forcing my way in. "Ram that big, beautiful fucking cock up into me!"

Needing no further coaxing, I grabbed her hips and thrust forward as hard as I could, burying my engorged manhood as deep in her smooth, slick vaginal sheath as it could possibly go. The sensation was so intense it bordered on pain, my poor dick so badly in need of relief that the constricting walls of her cunt sent waves of electric pleasure pulsing through my entire body.

"Fuck yeah, baby!" Sarah grunted, through gritted teeth as I drove it in to the hilt. "You're gonna fuck that pussy good! You're gonna fuck me 'til I cry, right here in front of everyone!"

With one hand still gripping the railing for support, she reached under with the other and again clutched at my balls through my pants. I let go of her waist long enough to undo my belt and pants, letting them fall down around my ankles. With the slacks out of the way, her probing fingers found their way into the opening on my boxers and pulled out my heavy nut sack, squeezing urgently at the bloated testes.

"Fill me up with that sweet cream!" she growled, and that was all I could take. Gritting my teeth, I once again gripped her hips and started thrusting my hammer in and out of her hot box as hard and fast as I possibly could.

In and out I went, driving harder and harder, trying to make her scream, pounding her dripping hole so hard I worried for a second we might break the railing off and both fall to our deaths. She bucked and thrust back onto me, urging me to go faster and deeper, shouting full throat for all to hear how much she loved my beautiful cock and how she couldn't wait to pull it out and thank it for the great fucking it was giving her by sucking a second load of cum from my balls. As the pressure built inside me like an atom bomb ready to go off, the delicious pumping of her gripping snatch muscles filling my dick just below the head with cum ready to blast forth at any second, I could see people down below and on the balconies across the lot turning to watch us. Their attention only made me more excited, and I started joining in Sarah's verbal orgy with filthy expletives of my own.

"That cunt feels so fucking good!" I roared, hammering away at it faster and faster. I grabbed a handful of her hair and jerked her head back sharply. "You love that dick, don't you, you fucking filthy whore?"

"Yes, baby," she moaned, squeezing the balcony's metal rail so tightly that the knuckles of both her tiny hands turned bright white. "I love your goddamn dick! I can't get enough of your fucking dick! I'm gonna fucking cum!"

One couple from the adjacent hotel hurried inside when they saw us, shocked by our brazenness. Another guy, a couple of floors up from them, took out his own stiff pecker and started furiously beating it as he gawked wide-eyed at our carnal theatrics. I thought I could faintly here someone far below us talking to the police on their cell phone.

Sarah let out a wailing, animalistic moan that didn't sound at all as if it were for the benefit of our shocked audience, and her petite little body abruptly shuddered like she were having a seizure. A stream of disconnected, guttural profanity spilled from her open mouth, "Fuck fuck shit fuck goddamn fuck shit..." spewing out through clenched teeth as every muscle in her little frame simultaneously locked itself in full tension, held for a long, breathless moment, and then released. Her body slumped as though she wanted to collapse to the floor, but I kept hold of her hips, continuing to assault her cum-soaked slit with my thrusting manhood.

As her orgasm subsided, I ramped up my pace and ferocity even more, wanting her to know that she wasn't done getting fucked until I was done fucking her. I wanted to fuck her raw, to make it hurt, make her take the rest of the day off and feel it for the rest of the week. I wanted to unload both five years of marital frustration and boredom and the full contents of my balls into her helpless little cunt. When I came - and I was so close it was agonizing - I wanted her to feel it, too.

Sarah gasped and squealed and shrieked as I pounded away at her, driving her into the railing, pushing my swelling rod deeper and deeper into the soaked depths of her womanhood. My cum was gathering, roiling, churning inside, ready to spew out into her. "So good..." she muttered between sharp cries. "...so good... AAAH... never came with a john... UNH... before... OOOHHH..." I looked down at the lovely heart shape of her flushed ass cheeks as my piston slammed in and out of her pussy, its veined shaft coated with the creamy white juice of her orgasming snatch, and I wished I could just keep fucking her forever. But the maddening pressure in my cock was too much, and the pulsing, jolting pleasure of each stroke into her cooze canal was pushing me to the very edge of total meltdown.

I quickly pulled my dick from her twat with an audible pop and stepped back, spinning her around and pushing her down to her knees. Through her delirious bliss, she grinned happily up at me, knowing exactly what I had in mind. She reached up and grabbed my massive hard-on with both hands, moving her nose to within a half inch of the opening at the tip and pumping furiously with every ounce of energy she had left.

The world went white for a mind-reeling instant, a thunderous explosion in the head of my dick sending shockwaves of furious ecstasy slamming through my body, and jet after jet of thick, ivory goo fired out of my tool and onto her waiting face. It splattered across her eyes and her cheeks, spraying onto her smiling lips, into her hair, and even across her cute little left ear. She kept right on tugging at me until I had no more to give, the syrupy contents of my man-bag dripping from her face like custard from the mug of a contestant in a pie-eating contest.

"Feel better, sweetie?" Sarah asked, giving my depleted balls a grateful little lick with her tongue.

I sure did.

We got out of there quickly, Sarah doing the best she could to get all the semen from her face and hair before pulling her dress on and dashing out to ensure she wouldn't be around if any cops or hotel managers showed up. It wasn't until a few seconds after she gave me a little peck on the cheek and dashed out of the room that I realized she'd left half the money I'd paid her down in the bar on the nightstand, with the words "Orgasm Discount!" and a smiley face written in lipstick on the top bill. I grinned and hurriedly finished dressing, racing out and down the fire escape just as the elevators opened and hotel security started down the corridor toward my room.

Having paid cash for the room in advance, under a false name, I knew all I had to do was get in my car and drive away, and no one would be the wiser. Of course, I'd have to hurry to make it back home in time to feign having actually gone to work that day, and I'd probably have to scrimp and save on the side for a while and skip a few lunches in order to replace what I'd spent in the checking account before Emily discovered it was gone.

At that moment, however, with my satisfied dick still humming from Sarah's hot mouth and sweet little pussy, I wasn't worried about getting caught. All I could think about was how good it felt to act like a man again, and if it would be possible to get my cock into one of my wife's holes that night without first washing the smell and taste of another woman's cunt off of it.