Experienced hookup girl

page views:1 Publication date:2023-06-11 12:13:36

I'm someone who loves using my phone, often staying up until 11 or 12 every night. When I'm bored, I often browse the "People Nearby" feature on WeChat. Last night, like usual, I was scrolling through my phone to kill time. I opened WeChat and saw a friend request from a girl. Her profile picture looked nice, so I accepted without thinking.

We exchanged a few pleasantries, talking about life and relationships. She was divorced and had come to my city for a vacation to clear her head. She was bored in her hotel room that night and had found me through the "People Nearby" feature. Initially, our conversation was normal, but gradually the topic shifted to sex. I'd been single for over six months and hadn't been with a woman. She sent me photos of herself in the hotel room; she'd give herself an 8 out of 10 for looks, and I was determined to hook up with her that night.

After two hours of flirting, she agreed to meet me, and thus began my first ever hookup.

I arrived at the hotel after 1 a.m., messaged her at the entrance, and after getting the room number, I went straight up the elevator. My heart pounded as I reached the door. There was a thrill of illicit sex under the hotel's security cameras.

I rang the doorbell, and the door opened. She looked much like her photos. She'd just finished showering, her hair still wet from my flirting on WeChat. She was holding a towel, drying her hair, and wrapped in a bath towel, her breasts prominently displayed .

"You're pretty quick," she said.

"Of course I have to be quick when I see a beautiful woman," I joked.

"Go wash up first," she said.

I changed into hotel slippers and went to the bathroom. Since it was our first date, I was nervous and wary of her. I'd read too many stories online about honey traps, so I only took off my clothes in the bathroom, bringing my phone and wallet with me. She said it was her first time too, and that her ex-husband had been the only man she'd met before. I

quickly rinsed off in the bathroom. When I came out, she had turned off the room lights, leaving only a bedside lamp. The light was dim. She was playing on her phone with her back to me. I thought to myself, she probably really really was a virgin, just as nervous as I was.

I walked to the bedside, lifted the covers, turned on the TV, randomly selected a channel, and turned the volume up to the maximum.

"Why did you turn the volume so high?" she asked.

"I'm afraid you'll be too loud later," I joked.

Actually, I was afraid the noise in the room would be heard by the people outside the door. But after we met up more often, I stopped caring about that. Sometimes I even deliberately went all out so the people next door could hear; that auditory pleasure amplified my desire.

I turned around and hugged her from behind. She shifted uncomfortably, then put down her phone, as if waiting for something, or perhaps anticipating what would happen next.

I slipped one hand under the covers and placed it on her waist. Through the towel, I could feel how slender her waist was. Then I moved down to her buttocks—large, perky. She had mentioned during our conversation that she exercised. With each movement of my hand, she let out a low moan.

My other hand slipped under her neck and placed it under her head. I continued groping downwards from her neck. My palm traced her skin, finding the area where her breasts had risen, then slipped under the towel and pressed against her chest. She later told me she was a C-cup. The moment I touched her, I could feel her body tremble slightly; the vibrations of her heartbeat traveled through my hand against her skin.

My hand, which had been under the towel, slipped under the covers, tracing her inner thighs down to her groin. She wasn't wearing underwear! I was instantly aroused; my penis swelled up like a balloon. Her groin was warm and moist; I hadn't expected her to be so sensitive and wet.

My hand on her breasts touched her nipples; they were hard. I teased them with my index finger, and she shifted slightly. My erect penis pressed against her buttocks through the towel; she must have felt it clearly.

"Kiss me," she whispered.

I brought my lips close to her neck and kissed her with my tongue, then took her earlobe into my mouth and sucked on it. Her earlobe was incredibly sensitive; as my tongue entwined with hers, she became even wetter, soaking my entire palm. I'd never seen a woman so wet and so sensitive before.

I breathed softly on her earlobe, my hand under the covers circling her clitoris, slowly stroking her labia from top to bottom, constantly teasing her limits.

Suddenly, she turned and hugged me, closing her eyes and kissing my lips. I kissed her back without flinching, our tongues intertwining, sucking each other's saliva. Her breath smelled wonderful; she must have chewed gum or something before I came. What a considerate woman; I'll definitely make her feel good tonight.

I pulled my hand away from her genitals, grabbed her towel and ripped it off, then tore off my own. We were naked, kissing, and I stroked her large breasts with both hands. She seemed to enjoy it, making soft "mmm" sounds. Her legs were tightly pressed together; I knew she wanted me inside her.

I took one of her hands and placed it on my already erect penis, which she grasped and began to stroke. Her skin was so soft and felt wonderful. Unable to resist, I pushed her onto the bed, spread her legs, and thrust inside. Her vagina was wet and warm.

"Ah…slower, it hurts a little," she said.

"Is it big? Has it been a long time since you've been fucked by a man? Is it tighter down there?" I asked, looking down.

She didn't answer, just nodded. I couldn't care less about anything else. My cock, already inside her, began to thrust in and out. She moaned comfortably, her arms tightly wrapped around my waist, stroking my back repeatedly. Each thrust went all the way in, hitting her G-spot. Her juices flowed freely down my cock. She grasped her large breasts, lowered her head, and sucked on one nipple with all her might. She later told me it hurt, but she enjoyed it.

I straightened my back, lifted her legs, and thrust my cock forcefully into her. Looking at the woman beneath me in her wanton state, I felt a strange sense of satisfaction. I remembered seeing her just ten minutes ago, so dignified and elegant. It turned out she was so slutty in bed. She moved in rhythm with my thrusts, making "ah...ah..." sounds. Her large breasts swayed incessantly before my eyes. A married woman is good; she's more skilled than a virgin, but less experienced than a seasoned woman.

Then I pulled out my cock, grabbed her buttocks, and flipped her over, making her kneel on the bed with her buttocks raised. I placed my hands on her buttocks, parted her labia, and gave them a squeeze. Then I knelt behind her, grasped my penis with one hand, and thrust it directly into her vagina. Perhaps because of this angle, it went in deeper, because her moans were noticeably louder than before. My penis thrust forward quickly and rhythmically, and I spread her buttocks from side to side with my hands to make the penetration smoother. After a while, I slapped her buttocks a few times with my hand, and she seemed to enjoy it. I didn't slap her very hard, since I have no violent tendencies.

"Little slut, does it feel good to be fucked by my penis?" I asked deliberately, wanting to expose her shame as much as possible and get her to completely let go.

She didn't answer, so I increased the force of my thrusts, each one going in hard, and the frequency of slapping her buttocks also increased. She continued, "Do you enjoy being fucked by me? Tell me." Perhaps due to the combined physical and psychological stimulation, she finally couldn't hold back and answered me, "Yes, it feels so good, so good to be fucked by your cock."

Hearing her words, I was greatly pleased. My hips slammed against her buttocks, making a "slap slap slap" sound. With each thrust, my pubic hair rubbed against her anus, and the vaginal fluid flowing from her vagina flowed down my penis onto her pubic hair, with a few drops even dripping onto the sheets.

"Is my cock bigger or your ex-husband's?" I asked again.

"Yours is bigger, it's so thick, it makes my pussy feel so swollen." This time she answered without hesitation.

I pulled her legs and made her lie face down on the bed, my cock still inside her. I straddled her buttocks, this angle allowed my cock to penetrate even deeper.

"Ah...ah...ah...I can't take it, you're going to fuck me to death." She mumbled incoherently. Hearing her words seemed to encourage me, and I fucked even harder.

After fucking her from behind for a while, I also felt my strength was being used up too quickly, so I lay down, and she held my cock, aligned her pussy, and sat on top of me. I grabbed her big breasts with both hands and kept rubbing them, my cock thrusting upwards into her hole, our rhythm was very well coordinated, her juices soaked my pubic hair, and afterwards she told me that she had orgasmed three times, and hadn't been fucked like that in a long time. When I heard her say three times, I was also very surprised, thinking, when did I become so good?

Hearing her continuous moans, I felt my glans signaling the urge to ejaculate. So I rolled over, pinned her to the bed, and fucked her hard. Finally, I yelled, and all the semen I'd been holding back for a week shot into her vagina. Even before I pulled out, I could feel her inner walls still contracting. I

hastily tidied the bed; the sheet under her buttocks was already soaked. I pointed at the sheet and deliberately asked her, "What happened here?" She shyly slapped my arm. The blush on her face from her orgasm hadn't faded, and my teasing made it even redder, like a ripe apple. Seeing her shy expression, I couldn't help but pull her into my arms. She paused for a moment, then raised her arms and hugged me back.

Lying in bed, we talked about our stories, sharing the fun and stress of our lives. Her marriage was unhappy. Her ex-husband was a petty thug who spent his days smoking, drinking, and gambling. When he was drunk or lost at cards, he would come home and take his anger out on her, leaving her covered in bruises. She even showed me a small scar on her leg, a burn from a cigarette butt her ex-husband had inflicted during their domestic violence. Seeing it broke my heart and I felt sorry for her. I hugged her and kissed the scar. She smiled at me and said it was okay, but I knew she was very sad.

Her biological father had passed away from illness when she was young, and her mother remarried. At first, her stepfather treated her well, but later he also started beating her. She dropped out of school after junior high and returned home. Because of her young age and lack of education, it was difficult to find work. So, her mother asked a friend to find her a job as a cashier at an internet cafe, hoping it would be better than staying idle at home.

The internet cafe was full of all sorts of people, and that's how she met her ex-husband. They gradually became involved and developed a romantic relationship. Because of her young age and lack of social experience, she was taken away by her ex-husband in an internet cafe for the first time. Deep down, she was a rather traditional woman. Although her ex-husband frequently sexually assaulted her, she still chose to marry him after a few years, hoping that having a child would change him. However, he became increasingly worse, and she couldn't bear it any longer, so she filed for divorce. This divorce lasted three years. The man refused to divorce, fighting for custody of the child, while she wanted nothing but the child. Eventually, the in-laws became enemies. The arrogant and domineering man broke into her home and injured her stepfather. The ex-husband was imprisoned, and the court granted the divorce. The child now lives with her mother. Unable to face her stepfather's daily ridicule and sarcasm, she ran away alone and met me.

Hearing her story, my pity for her deepened. She spoke calmly and without hesitation; I believed her words were true. I held her in my arms, stroking her hair, my arms tightening around her.

That night we made love four times. By the end, my semen was quite thin, and her genitals were a little swollen from my penetration. I asked her why her body was so sensitive, and she said she had always been like this, reacting strongly to any touch or caress from a man. Plus, she had spent the last three years busy divorcing her ex-husband and hadn't slept with any other men. Making love with me that night seemed to release all the repression and unhappiness of those years. She was grateful to have met me, instead of someone like her ex-husband. Her ex-husband always used the most traditional positions, releasing his pent-up desires before falling asleep, never considering her feelings. In his eyes, she was just a body for him to vent on.

I was grateful that she opened up to me about her past. A woman who had suffered so much lay quietly in my arms, feeling her even breathing and her long, seemingly fluttering eyelashes. For a moment, I realized that having a woman like her in this life wouldn't be so bad, because she had endured hardship and understood the value of life even more.

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