A Ride For Me

As I gave him a sensual look, he pulled me into the bedroom in a rush. I could not seem to move fast enough, and it was not long before he was lying on the bed, and I was starting over his waist. We started with kisses, followed by my shirt being pulled clean off by our collective effort. Soon, both our tops were off.

Neither of us really worried about my skirt, which had been pulled up in our rush (or was it when I spread my legs over him?) Wis hands were on me, starting on my tits. Rubbing, touching, groping, and squeezing me. I was quite excited for his intimacy... Hungry for him to take me, to use me, to satisfy the lust we felt.

I let out a moan, as my hands were placed on his chest. I could feel his hands upon me, his rod hard, and all that separated him from my shaved mound was only his pants and a pair of briefs. Well, that changed quickly. Even as he was feeling my body, I pulled open his pants, turning on the head as I did so, my own desire painted on my face. Could see the same need written on his face.

I moaned again, louder as one of his hands found one of my bare ass cheeks and grasped it, squeezing it. I loved his touch and wanted more. I opened his pants wide, pulling his boxers aside, and watching as his thick, large shaft sprung from within. I started rubbing my clit against it, moaning loudly as I did so. His hands moved to be around my waist, grabbing on hard to my hips.

It was no longer than the tip of his cock entered my pussy, and soon I was riding on it. Once again on my knees, I thought in a ridiculously silly manner, before moving my body up and down on his rod. Each time I went down, I sent it deeper into myself. I felt it slipping to me, pushing and stretching my body and we pressed it into me. I started slow, but started going faster, and not without some **** applied on each thrust. I felt my bush touch down on his balls slightly, giving me a newfound ruse of desire and need.

Sure, I could blame the speed and ferocity on the fact he was holding my side, or how sometimes even now groped my ass. I could even blame the wine. I could, but it would not be a correct statement. The truth was, my need had overwhelmed me the moment I had entered that bedroom. It's not as though I did not feel such desires, such as passions and needs before that evening.

I felt an orgasm, quickly followed by another on its heels. My body felt more, faster, and stronger than the last. I felt a climax soon after, and it seemed to make time slow down, as my ecstasy from the pleasure and passions washed over me. More orgasms followed, and I moaned. I screamed for him to take me, for him to fuck me like a dirty bitch, and most of all, I screamed his name.

Yes, the man I just met in the shared laundry room for the condo building we shared, and now I was screaming his name in the same breath as I was telling him to take me hard, to sit with my body, to fuck me like a dirty bitch. I loved what he was doing to my body, of being used for his personal pleasures. I climaxed again, and I redoubled my efforts in riding his hard rod, buried deep within my body.

It what felt like a moment, and yet paradoxically forever, in the pleasure of it all. I felt him shoot his load deep within me. I made a few more thrusts for him, before letting it fall free of me. That's when I see he's giving me a dirty grin, as he no doubt was liable to want something more from me.