He is tired. I have been fucking his mouth for the last hour. I smell myself on him as I lean in closer, my juices still glistening on his day old stubble.

His eyes are half shut, and his cock lies resting peacefully in a pool of cum against his stomach, twitching occasionally as it recovers.

The crisp white sheets are sodden, my carefully applied make-up smudged around my eyes and lips. All that effort to end up looking and smelling like a whore in heat. I can smell the fresh sex as I lie back, a contented grin on my face.

I look over at him. The man who, only 2 hours ago, I had never met. I study the gentle lines on his face. Years worth of laughter and frowns etched upon him, my only link to the soul beneath.

He realises I am watching him. The feel of his hair sliding through my fingers as I yank his head back. Don’t fucking look at me.

I can still feel the faint, irregular contractions inside me. The remnants of the previous hour. My pussy languishing in the memory of his exertions. His tongue is even better than I had imagined.

I study his naked body – the hairy chest next to the soft skin beneath his arms. The faint outline of his ribs beneath the flesh, of his hip bones. Tender. Delicate. I want to scrape my fingernails across them. To mark him. To watch the blood rising to the surface.

He hasn’t looked back at me. My silent, predatory gaze seems to be unnerving him now. I can see he wants to relax and sleep for a while – that I am too intense for him. But he stays still as I devour him with my eyes.

I am restless. I get up to pour myself a glass of water.

He wants to leave. He has had what he came for.

The palm of my hand stings from the slap as he lies back down, watching as my spit trickles down his cheek. So, he is submissive after all.

******************************************************************************************************

I had so enjoyed watching him masturbate beneath me as I rode him. His strong, masterful hand caressing himself.

I had never seen a man that old naked before. The only men I know his age are friends of my father, clients I have to deal with at work. Definitely noone I had ever thought about sexually. Before him. And to watch him wank - something that, in my head, is reserved for horny young boys wanting to knock one out behind the bike-shed, in a toilet cubicle in Sainsburys. Something secretive.. - was exquisite. Carnal.

A smirk crosses my lips to think of the next time I am sat across a boardroom from some suited, supercilious wanker.

I am lost in my thoughts. Have almost forgotten him lying there.

********************************************************************************

The water has gone straight through me and I need to piss, but I hold on to it.

He is still lying on the bed. Waiting to see what I will do next. The thought crosses my mind that I could do anything with him. No one knows he is here, and he will not want anyone to know.

I want to enjoy him.

He responds as I close his nostrils, and he opens his mouth. I spit inside it. I want him to secrete all of my bodily fluids over the days after he has left me.

I force my toes into his open mouth, tracing the fingernails of one hand over his nipples- a slight pinch – down to his belly-button.. through the downy hair as I edge lower. I marvel at the way his cock twitches as I head closer. All that power at my fingertip.

He gasps, chokes as I fill his mouth with my foot. My other hand still holding its tight grip around his nose.

I let go, and move around to straddle him.

I can feel his cock nudging me as I press down on his stomach. The temptation is too much. I want to sit on it. To feel him as part of me for a moment. But the pressure on my bladder is all too much also.

I wonder if the stream of piss flows through the eye of his cock. Where would it go after that if it did?

The urine spurts everywhere, what with the force of it and my cunt being firmly impaled, and we are both soaked. I lay my chest across his, our bodies sliding against each other.

Pure delicious filth.

I slip him out of me before he has a chance to come, rubbing against his belly, holding the sides of his head, our faces only inches apart. He really does have beautiful eyes.

He spots that I have weakened for a moment, and leans up to kiss me, whisper in my ear.

“This has been wonderful, but I really do have to go now”.

“OK.”

He looks surprised. Grateful.

“But here is the deal.”

“You have 5 minutes to get through me, to the door, and you can leave. If I win, I keep you until I am finished with you. If you win this time, I will wait until next time”.

I have knocked him off course. He looks at me as if I have lost my mind.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror above the bed. I do look like a woman possessed. All blackened eyes, smudged lips. My hair wild, my body soaked in piss and fuck-knows what else. The glint in my eye brought about by a challenge.

“OK then, deal”.