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Truffles
By
TrinityX

Truffles

Part 1 of a Trilogy
Click, enter and done! After months of mental preparations for my trip to Europe, here I am scrambling to confirm arrangements less than two weeks before my departure. My procrastination in securing my travel plans doesn't speak to my lack of enthusiasm for sure. In fact, I couldn't be more excited to go London for the first time, and I tingle at the thought of meeting a few friends that I've been corresponding with online. Hundreds of hours of cyber-sex logged, mutual masturbation sessions, countless pics and naughty messages shared, and now I’m holding my itinerary in my hand which feels like a winning lottery ticket. I’m going to collect. Damn right, I’m excited.

I’m not the only one excited though.

My friends and colleagues are also counting down the days to my departure and offering me their well wishes, and suggestions about what to see throughout my travels. I’m naturally a private person, and without prying, they've all accepted my intentional vagueness about what my plans are, other than “seeing the sights.”

How could I answer questions from those inquiring minds anyway? “Yes, I’ll be in Europe for a week and will readily fuck strange men that I have never met in person before.”

Yeah right, those that don’t know that side of me wouldn't believe it anyway, not for a second.

I glance down at my itinerary again and almost chuckle when I don’t see the word “FUCK” printed in the summary details. After all, that IS a huge part of my trip to Europe.

To be clear, I’m very much a lady. Milk-chocolate brown skin, five foot two, thick and curvy frame, round firm ass, shoulder length hair, and always having a fresh manicure and pedicure done. Attractive by most standards I’d say, and well aware of my femininity. Good genes allow me to be fresh faced and make up free…well, except for my lip gloss. Clear, melon scented and flavored with a low and discreet shine. How I love that stuff.

My mother once said; “Every little girl grows up to a woman, but being a lady takes effort.” I never forgot those words and they drive almost everything that I do. I am a lady….publicly. Those that know me privately have witnessed, tasted or FUCKED the lustful whore that shares my skin. Shares is being polite. Sometimes, the whore in me claims me whole, and is unapologetic as she ravages and has her way with a man. While observing, all the lady can do is wait, and clean up the mess afterwards, restoring all of the dignity that she possibly can. Teamwork. I love that.

After researching and planning the details of my trip, twelve days later, I land in Heathrow Airport. As soon as the wheels touched down on the runway, the reverb sent tingles between my legs. I’m here. Although I was solo on my flight and did not know a soul in this country so foreign to me, I know he’s waiting for me at the arrivals gate.

I claim my bag and scurry in the same direction that the throngs of people are heading in. Each step taking me closer to him, seizing the space between us. Before anxiety can settle in about meeting him, a more pressing thought intrudes and I wince at my appearance. I had experienced a full day of classes and errands before I departed for this six hour flight. Surely, it’s taken a toll on me, and both my physical and intimate appearance are under duress.

I contemplate going into the bathroom to freshen up, but the lines at immigration are already threatening and lengthy, and I don’t want him to wait longer than he already has. After clearing immigration, I take the last turn to the arrivals gate. Nerves and excitement claim me as I will soon be face to face with him. My knees wanted to give way underneath me and for a moment, I wish I could pause this scene and collect myself. No time for that now, and I convince myself that I’ll have plenty of time to freshen up at the hotel. I exit the final door and within the sea of people, I spot him immediately. It’s seven am and he is bright eyed, rested, and as relaxed as much as I feel nervous. He confidently strides over to me, beaming widely and slips his hands around my waist and gently sends his tongue to find mine. After five seconds of kissing, he withdraws smiling, and says “Welcome baby.”

“Thank you,” I blush, as the lady in me scans the crowd taking inventory of anyone who witnessed this public display of affection. Of course, I see some eyes on us, an interracial couple greeting each other intimately at the airport. Thank God my brown skin masks the blood rushing to my face, concealing my embarrassment. Teamwork. I love that.

In one motion, the bags I struggle with are now in his command and rolling effortlessly to his car. As we exit the terminal, I sneak glimpses of him and compare it to the pictures and videos that he shared. He is well groomed, wearing nice shoes, black leather jacket and dressy casual clothing, and even more handsome than his pictures. Not that looks are everything, but I’m damned glad that he translated well.

I, on the other hand, am feeling weathered and worn after twelve hours of travel. As I walk a foot behind him to his car, the lady in me chastises me every step of the way for not freshening up inside the last bathroom that I so foolishly passed. Too late now. He opens my car door and then walks around and places my bags in the trunk. As I open my legs to slip inside his vehicle, I’m mortified by the faint smell rising between my legs as I sit down. How embarrassing, I think and hope that he doesn't notice.

Honestly though, anyone with nostrils could smell me, so how could he not?

The car door barely closes behind him before he’s cupping my face and pulling me in for a kiss with both hands. As the whore enjoys the gesture, the lady thinks, right here in full view? Before I could assess the parking garages level of privacy, I need to focus on coordinating my tongue with his.

Damn…great kisser, I think to myself. After a minute or so, I feel his hand leave my face and make a descent for my left breast, and he begins to rub his thumb back and forth over my nipple like a miniature windshield wiper.

My pussy responds promptly and I hear the lady bitch as she nags at me again. I reluctantly break away from his kiss and smile, trying to regain my composure and minimize the scent that wafts from my activated cunt.

“It’s good to finally see you baby,” he quips.

I blush as I look away and say, “You too baby.”

Squeezing my legs together tightly, I am still trying to muffle the smell and extinguish the heat that both my journey and betraying throbs produce.

Sensing my discomfort he looks at me, “Don’t.” he says as he smiles at me.

“Don’t what, baby?” I chuckle as I feign ignorance.

“Don’t be shy baby, I smell YOU. I smell HER,” he smirks.

FUCK, I cringe helplessly. I don’t know whether to be embarrassed or aroused by his comment. I’m too shy to make eye contact with him at this point while I figure it out, so I plant a quick kiss on his cheek as I hope to distract him.

“May I?” he asks, with a gesture towards my lap which is now locked like a steel cage.

“Baby, I…” He wasn't waiting for an answer. The question is merely a formality.

He lifts my shirt slightly and slips his Ivory fingers between my brown skin and the waist band of my pants, and easily brushing pass my panties. His hands feel so warm and gentle and by instinct, I part my legs slightly. Within seconds, he maneuvers his fingers further down to my core and finds my entrance. His palm presses firmly against my mound while he slides his middle finger inside of me, shallow…then deep. I feel the heat and smell the foul and erotic scent from my pants, and my vulnerability consumes me.

“Ahhhhh baby, you smell so fucking good,” he moans into my ear with his eyes closed.

My God, I can’t believe he enjoys this naughty aroma so much.

Like a starving man on scraps, he forages into my seasoned and musky box further and brings his wet fingers to his lips and sucks them.

“Damn, you taste even better baby,” he says while he hungrily and blatantly slurps his fingers.

The lady in me is struggling to hold on to some crumb of dignity, while the whore in me opens my legs wider. Before long, he’s got three fingers inside of me and the smell of my dirty cunt is overtaking the cars’ interior. He feeds his digits into my starving hole and I thrust back, grinding into his hard palm and knuckles, which presses firmly against my clit, and closer to orgasm.

“Do it baby, show me you like it,” he taunts me.

He knows that those words fuel me and I respond like he knows I will. I ride his hand with no shame and in full view of innocent passerby’s that are conducting their normal morning routines. My head rolls back with passion and my only concern is to have his fingers as far inside my gaping slit as they will go.

“That’s it baby, good girl,” he whispers in my ear. Hearing those words are all I can take when I feel a ripple build inside of me.

“Baby, please don’t make me cum, not here,” I plead.

“No baby, I just needed to taste it,” he reassures me. “Let’s go,” he chuckles. He withdraws his fingers from me and now confronted with my aching cave, I am immediately regretful that I ever said anything. I regain my poise in the front seat, fix my pants and smooth my shirt back down over my breasts.

In a flash, he turns the ignition, yanks the car in first gear and we exit the Heathrow terminal. I watch as he skillfully handles the busy morning London traffic. I smirk as he keeps one hand on the wheel and gear shift, and the other hand strategically under his nose, smelling my juices.

Soon, we hit open road and I settle into the soft leather seats of his BMW. I take in the foreign sites of London and become increasingly aware of the stench in the car.

“Baby, shall we open a window a little?” I ask shyly.

“Are you too warm baby?” he asks knowingly.

“No, but…”

“Then why would we do that silly girl, it smells delicious in here,” he says as he takes an exaggerated inhale.

“You perv!” I say with inflated and exaggerated disgust.

“No shame here baby,” he says, his fingers blatantly pressed against his philtrum.

Twenty five minutes later, we arrive at the hotel without incident. He accompanies me at check in and escorts me to my room. His background in security makes him naturally check out my room for safety exits and protection. I chuckle to myself as I watch him peer out windows and assess the lock system on the doors.

“Am I safe from the world now?” I ask teasingly.

“Yes, but not safe from me, come here you,” he says. He strides over to me and kisses me deeply.

His lips feel like soft silk between mine and my whole body responds to him. Unknowingly, the first of many moans escape my throat and confirms the pleasure he was giving to me. His hands undo the button on my pants and he slid them down my chocolate thighs. Automatically, I lift my feet out of them and kick them to the side.

He kneels slowly before me and presses his nose firmly and purposefully to my brown mound, and inhales all of me.

“Damn baby, you smell amazing.”

The whore has officially arrived at this point and I stand there looking down at him and a purr rumbles in my throat.

“Your panties…”

“What about them?” I tease, even though I know exactly what he wants.

“Give them to me. They are mine now baby,” he says looking up at me.

“Oh yeah, how could they be yours if I’m wearing them?” I smirk.

Silently, he reaches his hands up to my waist and wraps each of his index fingers snugly inside the band of my panties, and gently tugs them down. His eyes are held to mine the whole time my panties make their descent and the whore in me dares him to look away.

He maintains eye contact with me until my panties reach my ankles and the floor.

“Lift your foot baby,” he says quietly.

“Say please, you dirty boy,” I tease back.

“Pretty please,” he says as his voice almost croaks in desperation.

I place a hand on his shoulder to steady myself, eyes locked on his. Left foot out. Right foot out.

And there it is. Those black satin panties with a white bow were the last barrier between him and me. I stood there, lustful, tingling, needing my sex consumed whole. The pungent and erotic scent was thick and strong in my nostrils, and quickly fills the room.

“Lay down.” he half demands to my mound, as he stands up to regain his composure.

I readily comply and take three steps back to the bed that will witness the filth that will surely unfold. I lay on the bed, and watch him take two steps towards me, still fully dressed and kneel back down on the floor before me. He hooks his arms around the back of my knees and pulls me to the edge of the bed.

FUCK. I love that.

He opens my legs fully, releasing my sins and lovingly places my legs over his leather clad shoulders.

Right leg over left shoulder. Left leg over right shoulder.

He leans in slowly, sniffs me as he draws in and sends his tongue to my moist opening.

My God.

Morning sunlight creeps through the sheers against the window and warms my partially clad brown skinned body as I lay whorishly sprawled between crisp linen sheets and my Ivory lover.

His moans confirm his pleasure and the lady takes a rest, and waits her turn.

“Mmm baby, make a mess for me,” the whore requests.

He eats, licks, chews and fingers me skillfully. He knows what I like. He’d fucking better. His words of lust are muffled and trapped between my limbs as I moan with wanton pleasure. My hands grab his hair, the sheets ball in my fist as I arch my back to feed him what he needs. What I need. What we need.

He tugs my flappy cunt lips open wide and sucks on them hard and soft, while he slides a fingers in my ass. His finger feels firm and gentle and makes me want to climb the fucking walls.

“Clean me baby,” I whisper to him.

His tongue laps deeper inside of me and I feel a trickle trail down my ass towards the bed. He was sure to catch every drop before it hit the sheets. The more I moan, I more aggressive he becomes and he gnaws on my clitoris and pulls it slyly between his smooth lips.

The whore in me uses him selfishly and I shamelessly smear my glistening musk all over his face. I want to drown him in it. The feelings his mouth and fingers give me make me soar so high that I feel dizzy and lightheaded.

“Oh baby, easy on me,” I beg as I try to hold my orgasm back.

His grunts tell me he hears me, but is disregarding my pleas. He knows what I need, what I really crave right now, and he was fucking delivering it.

“I’m close,” I manage to stammer.

He continues full throttle and pulls my tender musky clitoris even tighter between his lips while greedily sucking at my pussy lips and hole. His fingers are soaked as they slide inside my ass with juices that made a sneaky trail down my brown ass.

With a few more tugs on my box, I come so heavily, my body weakens as my orgasm flows into his mouth. As promised to me so many times before this day, he drinks every drop of me that he can without hesitation or question. Despite his best efforts not to spill any, the force of my release splashes back onto his chest, shirt and pants. As he withdraws his talents from me, I lay there, panting, spent and breathless, feeling empty and full at the same time.

He removes my limbs from his shoulders, places them on the floor and clears my pussy juice from his throat before he speaks.

“Even better than I ever imagined baby,” he says as he leans back and licks his lips and fingers.

I offer a very contented smile, but say nothing as my breathing stabilizes.

He stands to collect himself, grabs my panties from the floor, wipes my splashes off of his jacket and stuffs my panties in his jacket pocket. I lazily slide across the bed, and grab my purse from the nightstand. I unzip my purse and hand him a clean Ziploc bag.

“Here baby, use this,” I smirk.

He takes the clean Ziploc baggie and reads the label “Truffles 3/13/14.”

“You filthy whore,” he teases.

“Mmmmm, how that word arouses me baby,” I purr. “Besides, you can’t go into the street with panties dangling from your pocket. The Ziploc will preserve the smell for you”.

He takes the bag from me and quickly secures his prize inside, a prideful look on his face.

“You think of everything, baby,” he says.

The lady and the whore. Teamwork. I love it.

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