No … not THAT Marie!
I swore, fumbling with my keys in my right hand as I held my mobile phone to my ear; why do people always ring me when I am driving? I cried in frustration as the metal implements dug into the palm of my hand and I turned my attention to the twilight-lit door to slide the key into the lock.
“Fuck off,” I said to the phone: I did not want to talk to anyone about reclaiming my PPI. “How the fuck have you got my number?” I pointlessly asked and then skipped to the message from my boss about the Christmas Party.
I froze as the final voicemail barked from my phone. “Oh no,” I cried, as I discarded my phone on the table: they weren’t my shoes at the bottom of the stairs. They weren’t my coats. I strained as I listened and smiled as I heard the unmistakeable sounds from the back bedroom. It was the third time in three days; she was insatiable!
I jumped up the stairs three at a time; she had left the door open to her “playroom” as usual and a half-a-dozen naked men stood around the double bed, as another was fucking her doggy-style. The unmistakeable musky smell of sex filled my nostrils as her scandalous squeals tickled my arousal and she passionately bucked her hips to her partner’s rhythm.
“Hey mate,” the nearest guy said to me as I stood in the doorway, observing the scene. “Come to play?” I looked at him: he was Marie’s type; muscle-clad, six feet tall and well spoken. “You saw the ad at the clubroom too. She wants it.”
“I can see,” I muttered, and felt my cock press against my tight Y-Fronts. “She’s a nympho.”
Marie had always been a free spirit; ever since she swanned into my life as my lodger eighteen months previously and how she had completely captured my attention. I adored her, but could never be enough for her. What would a 21 year-old University graduate want with a middle-aged middle-manager?
When she first moved in, she teased me: she never wore any clothes at home and frequently masturbated with her door wide open. She fucked her partner in every room of the house and then came home every Friday and Saturday night with someone else: our walls are thin and I heard everything. Every grunt, every thrust, every orgasm.
After those early days she found out I loved something that none of her other partners did, and I began to give her something she desired. She would see both me and her one-night stand on the same night and we even kissed; I kissed the beauty that was Marie; with her soft blonde hair and lustful smile, we actually kissed.
Those days were bliss, but Marie always wanted more; every so often she would lose control. Her body was desperate for sex and she desired it like nothing else: one man was never enough, nor two or three, but as many as she could find. She might be sore the next day, but she would still need her climaxes, and with some gentle kisses of her cunt I would still have my beautiful angel writhing in ecstasy.
But that day I had no choice, and stripped in the doorway: I knew what she would want as her stud finished off inside of her. “Mikey,” she called as our eyes met; her hair bedraggled and her face flushed. “Mikey, what are you waiting for?”
I gulped; we had never done it with some many people watching, or after so much sex, but her eyes fizzed demandingly, and I could not resist. My cock was evidence that I did not want to, and as her man with rippling muscles left the bed, I slid underneath her and kissed her dripping cunt.
The taste of six different men made me shudder, but I had always loved going down on my partner after sex, and Marie took that a bit further: until I had met her, it had never been anything other than my cum, but she didn’t just push boundaries but smashed them.
For a moment I hesitated: so much cum from strangers made me a little queasy.
But my gorgeous lodger wanted more orgasms and I could not disappoint. I could not and I would not, so I began lapping at her well-fucked cunt, getting appreciative squeals and groans in return.