First Night at Monica’s

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My package was fairly large. The brown paper crinkled as I shifted it under my arm, almost pulling off the string it was tied with. I hadn’t see many old-school parcels like this so far; I’d only had the courier job for about a month. I guess you could say I lacked experience in certain areas. The bright red uniform made me feel like a bit of a joke, and it offered little protection against the winter chill that hung, freezing, in the drab grey corridor. The windows overlooking the hotel car park far below were open, letting in a sharp, icy wind that bit at my neck and hands. I flexed my fingers and clenched my jaw to stop my teeth from chattering as I walked. At least it wasn’t raining outside – that would make the bike ride back an absolute nightmare.

“Ten-oh-five, ten-oh-six, ten-oh-seven,” I muttered to myself, “wait.” Checking the address on the parcel, I doubled back. Room 1006. The mahogany panelling of the door whispered class, as did the neat little golden numbers inscribed on it. The hallways might have had no proper heating and questionable decor, but the rooms in that place cost an absolute bomb. I stepped up to the door and knocked twice, then winced, cursing quietly. Cold knuckles. After a few seconds of waiting, I heard the familiar sound of a body pressing against the other side, looking through the peephole. A sardonic wave was my usual response to this, but all I could do tonight was shiver and breathe clouds into the chill air. A loud click, and the door slowly swung inwards to reveal – her.

Long black hair. Steely blue eyes. Pretty, pale skin. Only a few lines across the brow to betray her years. Her shapely figure was tucked into tight jeans and a tank-top, covered by a little jacket that clung to her chest and shoulders. All black. All woman. She leaned against the doorframe, hips cocked at an angle, like a loaded Magnum revolver. The top had ridden up ever so slightly at the bottom, exposing a tiny sliver of waist. From the leather boots to the relaxed, curious half-smile, she owned herself. She stood between me and her territory, like a mountain lion.

“Can I help you?” Her voice was calm, measured. Mature. It purred beneath like a well-tuned Harley, with quiet confidence.

I tried to recover as quickly as I could, tugging hard on the reins of my imagination, now very aware of my stupid red cap. I attempted a grown-up “package for you, Ma’am,” but my teeth had started chattering again, and it came out as a confused mumble. Her expression jumped into a look of surprise as her breath rose in a fine mist before her face.

“Wow,” she remarked, “pretty cold out here, huh?”

Giving up on speech, I simply nodded and held up the parcel. She reached out with one hand and took it, glancing at the label with what I fancied to be a small grin creeping across her face. Casually tossing it inside, her gaze turned back to me.

“Busy night?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I finally managed, “only just finished.” I gestured behind her. “You were my last.”

It wasn’t rare that I’d strike up conversations with the people I delivered to. Mostly they were friendly types. Old and lonely. But she didn’t strike me as particularly old. Mid-thirties, forty at the most. As for lonely, who’s to say?

“Fancy coming inside for a while?” My stomach swooped. “You look ready to collapse,” she went on, “better warm yourself up.”

Without waiting for a response, she leaned towards me. I felt her hand grip my shoulder, guiding me forwards over the threshold. There was another click as the door closed behind me, and I was suddenly assaulted by warmth. The heat cascaded over me in waves, gently easing off the cold. The room was nice. A wide leather couch faced the lit fireplace opposite the door. A small walk-in kitchen stood to my right, a big armchair to my left. The parcel sat on the counter-top, next to what looked like a large remote control. I did a double-take as I realised one of the huge windows above the fire was actually a glossy black plasma TV. Instinctively I took a step towards it.

“Excuse me, Mister,” she said. canlı bahis I looked around and saw her leaning against the door. She pointed with one long finger towards my feet. Glancing down, I noticed a single dirty footprint on the laminated wooden floor.

“Oh! Sorry about that,” I mumbled apologetically, kneeling down to remove my shoes. I felt her leg brush past me as she moved to the kitchenette, tightly encased in those dark jeans.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” She asked, “I got milk, juice, beer…”

“Just water would be great, thanks,” I replied gratefully. The shoes eventually came off and I pushed them aside with my foot, knocking against a pair of boots next to the door. Straightening up, I glanced over to the fridge, where she was bent at the waist, reaching into the cooler at the bottom. Her figure was astounding from such an angle. All tight curves and long, smooth lines. She stood up herself, drawing out a bottle of red wine and a couple of glasses. She turned and I sharply moved my gaze back up to face-level.

“Take a seat over there,” she commanded, twitching her head towards the couch. A little smile curved the corners of her lips. I moved obligingly around the left side, setting myself down between the cushions. After a few moments of silence, save for a soft splashing, I heard her footsteps on the polished oak. She leisurely entered my view from the right, setting a glass onto the little coffee table in front of me, then sliding slowly down on the seat next to me.

It tasted sour in my mouth. Trying not to shudder, I swallowed the last of my second glass. I can’t stand red wine. We made conversation while we drank. Her name was Monica and she liked listening to orchestral film scores when it rained. She dressed as her favourite extras from cult movies. When she was younger she made a killing in the stock market and spent her time since then hopping between lush hotel rooms, never staying in one city for too long. She lived alone and divided her time between working out, watching films and writing. Her wealth of experience would have intimidated anyone like me. I had no real life of my own back then. I was young, fresh out of sixth form, aimless and institutionalised. This woman had a grip over me that no mere girl could muster.

The gap between us had disappeared. I felt the press of her thigh on mine and stared nervously at my empty glass.

“You know what kind of things I write?” She whispered. I had no idea her face was so close. I heard the fluttering of her eyelashes and felt the heat on her breath. I was electrified by the vibrations in her throat as she sighed softly. Her hand crept into view and settled on my leg. I looked up and into her eyes. They bored into me confidently as she looked me up and down. Her tongue slowly flicked up and down over her lips as she murmured into my ear, enunciating every syllable.

“E-ro-tic-a.”

My imagination went wild as Monica immersed herself in it, sinking as if into a steaming bath. Her hand moved lazily up my leg, grazing the hardness there. I inhaled sharply, and slowly she rose from her seat, never shifting her piercing gaze from me. Languidly, she started to circle me in my seat. She moved lightly around, talking all the way.

“I wrote a story the other day. About a woman,” she confided. “She was all alone. She was interested in things.” I lost sight of her as she passed behind me. I was frozen in the moment, afraid that any untoward action might shatter it. “She had desires. She needed release.” I felt her hair fall across my shoulder as she leant over me. Her lips, soft and warm, brushed against my cheek. Into my ear she breathed, “do you know what I mean?”

“She needed sex.”

I stiffened. Her hands were on my shoulders. They squeezed, and slid downwards. Over my chest they ran, down past my navel, touching the buttons at my waist, toying with them. Suddenly, they fell away, one caressing my face as she continued her circle. I first saw a fingernail, trailing languorously on the armrest. Then, a leather boot on either side bahis siteleri as she stood over me, hands on hips. With a deft flick of her shoulders, she shrugged off the jacket. The tank top revealed the line of her cleavage, breasts heaving against the fabric with her slow, heavy breath. Leaning in, she planted her knees either side of me, straddling my now painful erection. Gripping my head in two hands and forcing it back, she moved her face towards mine. She hovered over me, our parted lips mere millimetres away, for a moment I thought would last forever.

“You’re mine now.”

She kissed me fiercely, tongue and teeth moving wildly. Biting, pressing, pushing against each other. Hard in the heat. My hands on her waist, grinding against her, the denim heating up from constant, furious rubbing. I grew harder, straining against the material between us. She felt it and grunted softly with satisfaction. We went on like that for a while – I don’t know how long. Her rocking back and forth on top while I stared at her body. Eventually, slowly, painfully, she pulled away. Her tongue lagged behind, drawing a thin rope of saliva between our moistened lips.

She curled her mouth into a smile and leaned further back. Our rope snapped, and fell onto the curve of her left breast. Taking a hand from my side, she pressed it against her chest and rubbed it in little circles, spreading it, pushing it into herself. The hand lowered leisurely towards the black fabric of her top until a finger extended beneath it. As I watched her wrist flick back and forth, her face softened and her eyes closed. In the silence I could just make out a quiet sigh. The sharp angle of her knuckle penetrated the soft, round line of the material, whispering as it brushed over her skin.

Without opening her eyes, she placed her other hand on my belt buckle. There was a sudden click and the pressure in my jeans slackened slightly. My cock strained furiously, pressing into her as she slid backwards over my knees. Taking her time, she tugged at the material. She dragged it down past my hips, exposing my underwear, over the strong, throbbing muscle that hid beneath it. As it passed the threshold, my boxers suddenly tented upwards and pointed towards her chin. That seemed to be enough. With a small purring sound, she returned to her straddling position over me. Slowly, she lowered her denim-bound crotch onto mine, and I shivered at the heat of her sex.

One hand on my stomach, the other seizing my hair, again we kissed passionately, tongues sliding over one another, exploring inside. Her strong, slippery tongue pushed hard against mine, wrestling it to the floor of my mouth. All the while her other hand raked fingernails softly towards the tip of my eager cock. I held her as close as I could, hands wrapped tight around her waist. I pulled desperately, needing her more than I’d needed anything in my life. I felt sudden warmth as she dipped into my boxers, and a chill as she suddenly gripped me, pulling my skin forward and squeezing torturously. My hands went to the back of her head, now kissing with a renewed vigour. She pumped my cock faster and faster as I writhed helplessly beneath her. She kneeled steadily over me, moving slowly and with complete power.

Pleasure built in the pit of my stomach. She held it back behind sturdy floodgates, enjoying the struggling creature of need that held her close. Moving with a careful purpose, she withdrew slightly, moaning softly into me as we parted. Splayed fingers directed my cock upwards and her jeans suddenly fell away. She rose on her knees, and I felt a pair of lips touch against the end of my self. Not moving, she gazed into my eyes. I resisted the overpowering urge to thrust into her, waiting for the moment. It came in waves as she bounced up and down, her covered breasts moving with her, her back slowly arching as soft wetness enclosed the tip of my pulsing cock. She leaned backwards, allowing me a view of her soft pink stomach as the black top rode up past her navel. I couldn’t hold back a few gasps of pleasure as I felt my cock sliding bahis şirketleri more and more easily through her lower lips. The bouncing stopped for a painful few seconds as she hovered on the tip of my hard, slippery cock. She leaned forwards again, hair falling around my face, pulling the curtains over our expressions of animal desire. She stared piercingly into my eyes, taking in my look and slowly extracting her satisfaction from it. Her tongue slipped out from between her lips, flicking over them, moistening them. It drew tantalisingly close to me, and I leaned into the kiss.

It didn’t come. Her hands had left the base of my cock and pinned me into the couch by the shoulders. I struggled against it, desperate to feel her lips on mine, but she held me firm. There was another pause, and the silence was punctuated only by the sound of my heavy breaths. She hovered, pushing me down. I tensed in my seat. Toes curled. Muscles strained. A single rivulet of sweat appeared on her forehead and ran between her eyes to hang on the tip of her nose. It stayed there for a moment.

Suddenly she rammed herself down onto me, taking in my entire length at once. We cried out together as she started riding my cock furiously up and down. Her fingernails dug into my flesh and I grew harder than ever as her breasts bounced in rhythm with our strong, relentless lovemaking. She fell completely onto me, and I began to thrust up into her, as far as I could, desperate to hear her grunt and moan with unstoppable animalistic passion. I gripped her around the thighs, ramming her down with each push until I could feel the deepest parts of her closing, pulsing, throbbing around me. Her height towered over me, so I clenched my teeth on the fabric of her top, which ground against my face maddeningly. Pulling hard, I tore it open with a loud ripping sound. She cried out with surprise and the thrill of my desire for her.

Her full, beautiful breasts fell out, still shining with my stolen saliva. The nipples were stiff with arousal, awaiting my teeth and tongue. I obliged, my lips sliding, tongue pressing, mouth sucking, teeth biting. I was rewarded with the sound of her moans, growing ever louder and further out of her control. My thrusts went deep, all the way. The occasional few gasped, sighed words escaped her mouth; dirty, senseless, exciting. I wanted her all over me. Wet, soft, warm and grinding against my chest. I felt my orgasm building quickly, spiralling out of my reach. I couldn’t stop it now. Her skin on mine, pussy clenching around me, the incredible heat and fury of our fucking all urged me towards a shuddering explosion inside her. Too late to slow down, I seized her by the hair and pushed her lips against mine. Our tongues found each other as I thrust deep, one last time, my hand in the small of her back, holding her steady on top of me. I burst into her, spilling my heat inside. It wouldn’t stop pumping for what felt like forever. Quickly her fingers dived down and deftly started sliding around the outside of her pussy. Whatever she was doing, it made her back arch at an incredible angle, her muscles gripping my cock painfully, milking it for every last drop. She shook violently, gasping for breath, her other hand raking across my face, now tightening around my throat. I too was left struggling to breathe as she shuddered on top of me, mouth opening and closing silently, eyes wide, completely taken by the force of her orgasm.

When it was over, she finally collapsed onto me. Drenched in sweat, we stained the leather of the couch and held each other close, each savouring the afterglow, feeling as the other’s breathing slowed to normal. We lay there until morning came, myself inside her all night long. The fire died to embers beside us, still adding to the heat in the room, mingling with the heat of our bodies, enclosing us in its warmth. Light filtered softly in through the windows, bringing us slowly back to life. Her eyes eventually fluttered open in front of me, and, after a moment of confusion, settled on mine. Her expression was soft, vulnerable. Nothing like the night before. Hesitantly, she parted her lips to speak. I still do not know what she meant to say. Our kiss was gentle, sucking all the fear from her body. I wrapped my arms tightly around her, and held her there forever.

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  1. cheap wigs diyorki:

    The hair is real, I brought it up for several years younger, covered with white hair, and became a changeable girl, haha

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