[Short but agonizing hbppy hours] [dhristry] [To be continued]

page views:1 Publication date:2022-09-28

This post was last edited by hbnwuhbn on 2017-7-28 11:23.

One hour, hotel room.

Every time, he belittles me, saying I'm old and past my prime, but who can stay young forever? He always looks down on my high sex drive, saying it's hard to satisfy, and no one wants to fuck me anymore, that I'm only good for manual labor. But when have they ever truly satisfied me? Aren't they all just satisfying themselves? He says no one's fucking me, but why are they all busy inserting things into my anus? I know I can't fight him, so I can only silently obey.

Another hotel room today? Last week we went to a hotel. Those two older men were quite robust, and I'm just a middle-aged woman, but even so, they couldn't satisfy me. It was just a quickie with two older men, and that was it. He said he was done playing around and wasn't interested in me anymore. He said he wasn't interested, yet he spent hours on me, cleaning every nook and cranny, using every trick in the book. I could only endure the emptiness and helplessness as he left. I thought he might still be able to do something, but my period forced me to hastily stop. I didn't want him messing with my backdoor anymore. And today? I hope it's another one of all that without any real satisfaction. But I know my refusal is useless; he's already made up his mind.

Looking around, I realized he hadn't prepared a small gift for me, nor any clothes for me to change into. A strange feeling suddenly struck me. I didn't dare ask; he always had something different up his sleeve. What would it be this time?

Having a car was so convenient—it made it easy to go out, like the last time we went sightseeing, and it also allowed us to expand our horizons. A quick drive and we were at another budget hotel. I went upstairs with him, took out my card to open the door, and found the double room empty. I stared at him in surprise. Was I going to book a room with him? Why waste money? We could have the same fun at home.

"Take off your clothes," he finally said. This was the signal that things were about to begin. It had been so long since I'd spent time alone with my little husband; it was something to look forward to.

"Don't take off your underwear," he actually stopped me. So he does have his flirtatious moments, I thought, my mind racing. Sure enough, he pulled out a pair of handcuffs from his bag. I reached out my hands, but he ignored me, squatted down, and handcuffed them to my ankles. This was my reality; I was always ignored, while they did whatever they wanted.

He handcuffed the other end to the office chair. He was going to spread my legs. I obediently sat down, thinking of putting my legs on the armrest, but he grabbed me.

"Just stand there and wait, don't move," I was completely confused. What else did he want? He actually picked up my clothes and walked towards the door, opened it, and left. Why?

Just as I was wondering what to think, the bathroom door opened, and I realized there was someone else inside. I hadn't noticed when I came in. It seemed he was the one who had actually booked the room.

A completely unfamiliar face came out. He wasn't tall, maybe 175 cm, and had a decent build, not the fat type. I only glanced at him before lowering my head, not daring to look again. I felt a little flustered, and my hands unconsciously went behind my back.

"Look at me," his voice lacked any authority. As he spoke, he placed his hand on my arm. I obediently raised my head, but I looked away again after just a moment of eye contact because I felt guilty and didn't know how to face him.

"So you're the slut who's begging to be fucked?" "I didn't know how to answer, but did I even need to? I was tied up like this, practically naked, and his hand was still caressing my back.

'Answer me,' he said, his tone still so flat. I thought for a moment, then just gave a hesitant 'hmm,' glancing at him slightly. He was an older man, but in his eyes I was definitely still an old woman.

'I heard you're good at deep throat?' I quickly shook my head; that wasn't what I liked. His other hand gently moved to my waist, turning my body towards him.

'Look at me,' he said, without emphasizing his words, but I didn't dare disobey, so I could only look at him furtively.

'Want me to fuck you?' He asked so many questions, such a nagging old man, but I still didn't want to answer. He grabbed my cheeks forcefully, making it impossible for me to escape his gaze. There wasn't a trace of hunger in his eyes; instead, I was the one who was constantly flustered.

'You've even crawled on all fours?'" I shook my head, not wanting to admit it.

"Show me your tongue," I said, not knowing what he meant, and gently stuck it out a little.

"Stick it out," I said, this being the first time he'd started with my tongue, what could he possibly do?

"Stretch it out longer," I said, stretching it as far as I could. He leaned in and started kissing me, I quickly pulled my tongue back, closed my eyes, and slowly savored the kiss; it was actually quite good. I reciprocated, it had been so long since a man had kissed my lips, not my husband, not even my younger husband, except for that masked man's tenderness last time, everyone else had just bitten my labia. I eagerly sought this moment of tenderness, sticking out my tongue and intertwining it with his.

After a moment, he pulled away from my lips, his hands caressing my body. "I heard you still have breast milk?" His hands were already gently stroking through my bra, but I didn't want to answer.

"Hmm?" "He asked doubtfully, and I quickly shook my head, saying no, my body involuntarily shrinking back. I didn't want him to suckle my breasts so hard; it would hurt a lot.

"Your breasts are quite nice," he continued, stroking them through my bra. The gentle touch made me gasp. I could already feel myself getting wet; I couldn't resist this teasing."

"It seems a bit thick," he finally squeezed hard, his assessment of the bra essentially a measure of my cup size—I'm only a B. But that didn't stop him from continuing to rub.

He moved behind me, both hands vigorously kneading my breasts together. While there wasn't a noticeable pleasure in my breasts, his hands behind me had already reached his crotch, and I instinctively rubbed them back against him; I craved a big cock.

Clearly, he only wanted to tease me, not me teasing him. He grabbed my hands, held them above my head behind my head, preventing me from getting close to his penis; I couldn't even tell the size.

He continued to play with my breasts, kneading, shaking, vibrating, constantly asking if I felt comfortable. I didn't feel anything at all. Although the foreplay was quite good, how could it feel comfortable through a bra? I could only pretend to be comfortable, moaning and groaning, hoping to... I was satisfying his needs.

He finally slipped his hand inside my bra, pressing his fingers on my nipples and breasts, pinching and rubbing them. It felt alright, I guess. I moaned softly in response, which made him squeeze harder. After a while, he finally ripped open my bra, exposing my breasts. I could only moan softly as he teased my nipples, pretending to enjoy it. I even covered my mouth, as if afraid of making too much noise. I really don't understand what's so fun about grapes, that they're more fun than sex?

I really wanted to reach for his big cock, but he stopped me every time, making me raise my hand. Was he a toothpick?

After another round of kneading, he finally unhooked my bra and slowly took it off. Now we were face to face, and he kneaded my breasts hard, really hard.

"They're really not big," he said, his hand completely gripping my B-cup breasts. "But I like it." The pain was mine, but the pleasure was his.
His lips pressed hard against my grapes, sucking and biting as he did so. I could only close my eyes and endure it. "Open your eyes and look," he said, his tone light but leaving no room for doubt. I could only open my eyes and look away, unable to bear seeing my own ugly state.

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[Short but agonizing hbppy hours] [dhristry] [To be continued]

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