Whore is Where the Heart Is

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I thought the day would never end. There’s nothing worse than a Valentine’s Day at the office when you’re the only single one in the place! An endless stream of flower deliveries, boxes of chocolates in various stages of being picked over, conversations in the elevator or the ladies room about whether tonight would be the night he would ‘pop the question’. And I must admit, if I were involved with someone, I’d be enjoying the day just as much as the rest of them. But as it was, I found it sickening.

See, I’d been in a bit of a dry spell. After an ugly breakup about a year ago followed by a hot but ultimately unsuccessful rebound relationship, it had been at least six months since I’d had a date, or, well, let’s just be blunt, since I’d gotten laid. And I was just coming to terms with that being OK, when the calendar turned to February, and before I knew it, here I was, suffering through Valentine’s Day still alone, my giddy coworkers unwittingly rubbing my nose in their sea of red heart-shaped boxes, ribbons, and flower petals.

That morning as I’d gotten dressed for work, I tried to cheer myself up by putting on my sexiest matching red bra and panties. As I studied my form in the mirror, I couldn’t help but admire how hot I looked. My fingers traced the edge of the red lace which cupped my large breasts – 36D on my otherwise slim, 5’8″ frame. Naughty, I thought to myself as my hands continued their path downward, pausing to lightly stroke my clit through the lacy fabric of my panties. “Gee, Karen,” I thought to myself with a chuckle, “just go to work.”

And so my hot undergarments were promptly covered by my attractive, but conservatively professional work clothes – a white blouse and black skirt, with a colorful scarf around my shoulders, and sensibly low-heeled black pumps. I had a big presentation to give the next day, so hopefully my preparations for that would keep me busy and distracted. No such luck.

Try as I might to concentrate on my work, I wasn’t lucky enough to have an office with a door, so was forced to sit in my cubicle in the middle of the office and hear every sappy phone call – “No, you hang up first!” – every flower delivery – “Is there a Pam Johnson? These are for you!” – and every comment on delicious chocolates from thoughtful boyfriends – “Ooh, have you tried this one? It’s simply divine!”

So, back to where I started – I thought the day would never end. When it finally did, I dejectedly headed home, planning my evening as I drove. First, I’d stop at the video store, where I’d see what appealed to me for solitary viewing – would I give in and rent a romantic comedy, ending up a pitiful mess of tears and tissues? Or would I rent some horrible monster movie, and pretend it was Halloween rather than Valentine’s Day? Either way, my next stop would be the grocery store, for a pint of ice cream.

Finding nothing that caught my fancy in either the romantic comedies or the horror flicks, I found myself in the documentary film aisle. Next to a very attractive man who I admit I deliberately bumped into. Not the smoothest move, I know, but it worked. I got his attention and we struck up a conversation. Just as he was telling me that his name was John and asking mine, I noticed his wedding ring. I had to laugh at my desperation as I realized that I was trying to pick up a married guy in the video store demetevler escort on Valentine’s Day.

But before I had a chance to pull myself away and go home to wallow in self-pity, I realized that he was flirting with me. It had been a while, and I was a little rusty, but it was unmistakable. He was keeping the conversation going, he was glancing towards my bosom when he thought I wasn’t looking, and he seemed not to care that he was doing this with his wedding ring on. I decided to play along, and before I knew it, we were leaving our videos behind and making our way to a restaurant down the street to have a drink.

As we started to chat over our glasses of wine, I learned that John was in town on business, just for the one night. He owned his own company, which had been doing quite well, but he found himself traveling more than he liked – when he had the opportunity to land a new client, even if it did mean being away from home on Valentine’s Day, he couldn’t turn it down. He did tell me more about his company, but frankly I can’t remember much, as I was busy pretending to pay attention while I actually studied his body.

He was a bit older than I – I guessed 40-ish to my 30 – but in fabulous shape, as if he spent all his free time working out. He was about 6’2″, with big strong hands (always a turn-on for me), wavy brown hair and deep brown eyes, and a chiseled jaw with a five-o-clock shadow.

Moving on to our second glass of wine, I realized he noticed my eyes on his body, and as I crossed and then re-crossed my legs on the barstool, my business skirt riding up higher and higher on my thigh, I knew he was checking me out as well. I kept listening to the little voice in my head, though, the one telling me not to make a move on a married guy. Somehow, the voice didn’t say anything about responding if he acted first. Which he did.

At first, I thought he was starting to say that perhaps we should call it a night and go our separate ways. But no, he was suggesting we make a night of it, together.

“Karen, I really don’t want to be alone tonight. And you’re so incredibly hot, I haven’t been able to think of anything but fucking you since we started talking. Would you like to come back to my hotel with me? No strings, since I’m leaving town in the morning – but tonight, I want you. That is, if you feel the same way…”

I just smiled, took his hand, and guided it up my inner thigh to my panties, letting the wetness between my legs speak for itself as my response. He gave me the name of his hotel and the room number, and we headed off, for the moment, going in separate directions. He would get a cab, and I would drive my car there, we had agreed. I’d give him a head start, and he’d leave the door to his room unlocked.

My heart was pounding in my chest in anticipation as I climbed into my car and drove slowly towards the hotel. Somehow, I felt no guilt about what I was about to do – the fact that he was married and virtually a stranger just seemed to turn me on even more. I had never done anything so naughty as what I was about to do tonight.

I let my hand rest on the doorknob for a few moments, taking a deep breath to calm myself before turning it and entering his room. Much to my delight, he had already stripped off his clothes and was lying, naked, on the bed. I followed dikmen escort suit, stripping and tossing my clothes aside so that I was down to my bra and panties by the time I reached the bed.

“Oh, god, Karen, you’re so sexy in that red lace!”

I climbed onto the bed, kneeling above him and taking his still-flaccid cock into my hands. As I began to stroke him, his cell phone rang on the table next to the bed. He grabbed it, and I could tell by the quick look of guilt that flashed across his face, that it must be his wife. He didn’t answer, responding instead as I took the tip of his cock into my mouth, still stroking his shaft and balls with my hands.

A minute later, his phone rang again. Pulling away from his cock for a moment, I hissed at him to answer it – I knew he wouldn’t be able to enjoy himself with his phone ringing all night. I also had a strange thought that it might just be a turn-on for me, sucking him off while he talked.

“Hi, honey! Huh? Oh, sorry, I just got out of the shower, didn’t know you called… What? Yeah, everything went fine, it was a good meeting. Did you have a good day? That’s good.”

As he struggled to maintain his composure on the phone, I went at him with more enthusiasm, ridiculously turned on by the naughtiness of what I was doing. He was now fully erect, and I was attempting to engulf his entire length.

“Hey, listen, honey, I’m really tired, I think I’m going to turn in now. But I’m glad you called. Happy Valentine’s Day! OK. Love you too, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He flipped his phone closed, tossed it across the room, and released the tension which had built up as he controlled his voice while talking with his wife. “Oh, god, Karen, yes, suck my cock!”

He wrapped his fingers around my cascading strawberry-blond curls, until he had pulled all of my hair into one ponytail and could use it to guide my motions on his cock. I forced myself to relax, and before long, he was bottoming out in the back of my throat, and thrusting faster and faster into me. “God, yes, that’s it, I’m going to cummmmmmmmmm!”

He shot his load, more than I could swallow, and I was soon covered in his cum – it was dripping out of the corners of my mouth, landing on my tits. “That was incredible, Karen, the best blow job I’ve had in a long time. I think it’s time I return the favor.”

He sat up, flipped me over onto my back, and positioned himself on his knees above me. He began with my breasts, kneading them first through the fabric of my bra and then pulling that lacy fabric down so that my tits popped free. Obviously delighted at their size, he dove in, sucking first one nipple and then the other as one of his hands made its way to my panty-covered pussy.

My panties were soaked by this point, turned on as I was by our elicit encounter. He quickly shoved the fabric aside, and I let out a huge sigh as his fingers first touched my clit. Easily lubricated by my juices, he began stroking me quickly with two fingers. It wasn’t long before he had to tear his attention away from my tits and focus entirely on my pussy, bucking and grinding beneath him as I was.

Scooting down on the bed so he could service me properly, he started by teasing me with a few quick licks to my clit. I couldn’t stand the suspense, and grabbed his head, pushing his face against ankara escort my sex. He responded quickly, beginning a slow and steady motion with his tongue on my clit, as a few fingers found their way into my pussy. I had my first small orgasm almost immediately, hungry as I was for a man to eat me out – it had been too long.

But he rode through that with me, continuing to lick and suck and finger me, until I was soon on the verge of a much more powerful orgasm. Just before I was ready to cum, he pulled away from me, flipped me over again so that I was on all fours in front of him, and prepared to enter me from behind.

Letting me come down from my heights of pleasure, and giving himself a chance to harden up, he held his cock in his hand, guiding it along my pussy lips. The right moment seemed to come at the same time for both of us, and he thrust his hard cock into me in one smooth motion. After we had established a steady rhythm, he reached around and took one of my tits into each of his hands, kneading them as he fucked me.

Since we had both cum already, we were able to fuck for what seemed like hours, building up almost to a climax before slowing down or changing positions for a new sensation. His long, hard cock filled me delightfully, and we took turns being the one to generate the motions.

Finally, it was time. We returned to our original position, doggy style providing the best penetration, and he began thrusting hard and fast.

He placed his big, strong hands on my hips and used his grip to reach an even deeper level of penetration than we had found before. Once our rhythm was established, he moved one hand to my clit, and began flicking his fingers across it. “Are you ready to cum, Karen? I want us to cum together!”

“Oh, god yes, John – just keep doing what you’re doing, I won’t last much longer!”

“Aaaaahhhh, Karen, I’m cummmmmmming!”

Just as he shot his load into my pussy, my own orgasm overtook me with wave after wave of pleasure. I collapsed into the bed, and must have fallen asleep before I even realized it.

I hadn’t necessarily planned to stay the whole night in a strange man’s hotel room, but obviously our intense fucking session took its toll, so it was indeed morning before I woke up. After studying John’s sleeping face on the pillow next to mine, and running my fingers over my own skin, remembering the pleasure of the night before, I remembered something else – my big presentation at work! And judging by the light coming through the windows, I was going to be late if I didn’t get moving right away!

Looking at my watch, I realized I could still be on time, but it would mean going straight to work – with no chance to shower, or to go home and change. I hoped none of my coworkers would notice the fact that I was wearing the same clothes as the day before!

Once I was dressed and ready to go, I gave John a peck on the cheek (what a sound sleeper he was!) and left my business card on the pillow next to him, with a note scrawled on the back, something about calling me if he was ever in town again. And then I was on my way.

20 minutes later, I was at my desk, pulling together my papers for the presentation, when Julie, who had the desk next to mine, gave me an odd look and said, “Isn’t that the same outfit you were wearing yesterday, Karen?”

“Um, well, yes, I guess it is! What do you know.”

Smiling as I walked away towards the conference room, I realized I could take pleasure in the fact that my night of passion was likely substantially more hot than that of any of my committed co-workers. Maybe Valentine’s Day wasn’t so bad after all.

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