“I want to drain your balls of every last drop, baby.”He squirmed. There was no saying no to her.She pushed him down, more violently than he thought she would. He fell back against the sofa in his office. The John Grisham he had been reading fell to the floor, as he displaced it.She leaped onto him.“You’re ready for this,” she said.It wasn’t a question. It was her telling him that he was going to fuck her and hold on to his ejaculation whether he liked it or not.She kissed his brown pubes again.“Mmm - Norman, I love your groin area a lot more than last year,” she said, giving him a twisted smile.“Thank you,” he said, daring scarcely to breathe.She straightened up again and climbed on top of him. She sat her pussy right down on the head of his penis, and she held that position for a good minute. He knew that the strength in her thighs was abnormal just then.Then she sat on him, and his shaft was buried deep inside her. It was snug fit. It was almost as if her vagina was custom made. .wonderful. A drink...another...and another. I remember soft lips on mine, a grasping hand inside my trousers, my back arched against a passage wall as my cock exploded down a hungry woman's throat. I remember tasting only faintly my semen on her breath as opposed to its full bodied texture on my tongue before swallowing. And then I was alone, drunk, disheveled, and unmistakable defiled. I straightened myself up in the men's room. Washed my face. Tucked my shirt. Combed my finger furrowed hair. And made my way, one foot in front of the other, out of the bar and back to our home. She met me with a kiss, but I sensed something in her voice when she asked me if I wanted to change into my robe. I sensed...disappointment. I did as she asked and joined her on the couch lying with my pounding drunken head comforted in that wonderful softness of her lap.Before long I was fast asleep and that twinge of disappointment I had sensed on my arrival was a distant memory.I came slowly to,.
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