sylvia124

Sylvia124

After his shower Tom slipped into bed with me.  He rolled me over so that I faced away from him.  I felt his rather average penis pressed against the crack of my ass as his hands covered my small breasts.  He removed his left hand from my breast, he used it to rub his penis against my anal opening.  I knew what was coming next.  I didn’t care for it because, it alway left me feeling as if I needed to use the toilet.  I felt that way all the next day, but I could deal with it.

Did I get pleasure from anal intercourse? no.  Did it cause me pain?  not usually with a penis the size of Tom’s. It might upon initial insertion, but after a couple of strokes, I was sure that I would adjust to it.  It was just the dryness that would be painful till it lubricated.

Tom had an answer for that.  After I was breathing hard, he reached over to the night stand to retrieve something.  That some proved to be a lubricant.  It was a thick have lubricant.  He smeared it around, and into my anus.  When he returned his hand to my breast it was greasy,

His penis easily moved into my opening,  He went all the way inside me with a single stroke.  He wasn’t anywhere near as deep as I had been previously been penetrated.  That was a good thing for me.  I began to feel the familiar sensations.  A lot of my state of rising arousal came from his hands covering my breasts.  Some of it came from his kissing of my neck.  But I admit some came from his cock massaging the inside of my ass.  I turned on to it some, but the emotion I felt was the girlish pride, I felt whenever I could please my father.  Yes that felling had stayed with me.  Tom knew how to play on that because he spoke to me as he fucked my ass.

“That’s right baby move you ass for daddy,” he said.  That drove me even  higher.  I moved my hips in a rolling motion.  “That’s right baby suck that cock up you ass,”

I couldn’t help it after a few minutes of him sliding up and down my ass I said, “Fuck my ass daddy, please fuck my ass.”  At that moment he increased the speed of his efforts.  Then he suddenly stiffened and I knew he was shooting cum up my ass.  Some of it would penetrate deep into my bowels.  I knew I was going to be in the toilet shortly, but I savored the feel of his cock wilting in my ass.

I lay in his arms till he was completely soft.  He went into the bathroom first.  I lay or my stomach while he was gone.  Laying on my stomach prevented  his semen from leaking out, and making the bed any wetter than it already was.  Yes I knew how it worked.

When he came back, Tom got into his own bed and I rushed to the bathroom with semen dripping down my leg.  I spent several minutes on the toilet feeling semen slip out my ass, then I had a bowel movement.  I knew that would clear most of Tom’s semen from my canal.

I managed to stay out of the bathroom until 5AM.  I sat on the toilet longer than usual before I began my morning run.  It wasn’t the first time that I ran after anal intercourse, but it was the first time in a long time.

I checked my watch and found that it was 5:45 when I left the room.  I ran out to and then down the access road and around a parking lots until it was 6:30.  Then I began to run black.  The timing was good, because I got back to the motel at 6:55.  That was more than an hour, so I felt okay about the run.  I went in and sat on the toilet again.  I wasn’t sure whether the pressure in my bowels was real or not.  It proved not to be, so after I urinated I was back up and into the shower.  After my shower I tried one more time but nothing happened so I dressed.  I put on clean panties and a camo tee.  It was a desert pattern so I pulled on the jean from the day before.  Hey they weren’t dirty.  They just smelled a little of my skin creme.

I went out and gave the bathroom to the groggy Tom.  I was glad to see that he seemed to be able to compartmentalize the relationship as I did.  He was very much about business when the sun was up, and so was I.

I managed the cereal and the hot chocolate drink with ease on day two.  I called it that, since it wasn’t real hot chocolate.  The orange juice made it easy to get down.

Tom just drank his coffee and ate some kind of bakery item, he had picked up at the store.  Since things were working out better than I expected, at least as far as the travel was concerned.  I decided we needed to stop and pick up a bigger cooler and plastic storage box with wheels.  We could get the cooler in it, and still have room for the food items.

We stopped in a Walmart store located in a shopping center located by the interstate.  We still made Jacksonville Florida by 5PM.  We had driven almost the whole eight hours that I had dedicated to Swamp Dog.  Which left only a short drive to Miami on Thursday.  From the interstate it was only minutes to the Civic Center.  The roadies would be hart at work all day, if we wanted to do a perimeter check.  Since the Gig wasn’t till 8PM Friday, we could also take Thursday off, any combination of the options would work.

Over dinner at an Italian restaurant I asked,  “So Tom do you want to take tomorrow off and stay here again, or get on down to Miami and take some down time Thursday night and Friday morning.  I have no preference.” I admitted.  “I should warn you that we can’t put Disneyland ticket on the card.”

“How about we stay here and go on a real date.  Dinner on Swamp Dog and a night club on me.” Tom suggested.

“If that is what you want fine.” I said with a smile.  I wanted him to think it was okay with me,  “But how about we get down to Miami first, so we know we don’t have that drive on Friday.  We can be there just a little after noon, and still have time to do those things.” I suggested.

“I don’t know shit about Jacksonville, so that’s fine with me,” Tom said.  “One is as good as the other.”

So that Wednesday night was a repeat of the night before up until bedtime.  At bedtime, after a day of false alarms, I had a bowel movement before my shower.  When I came out of the shower, I felt much better.  I put on the night tee shirt and went out to bed.  Tom came out of the shower a while later, and went to his own bed.  That was more than okay with me.

I was awake again at 5AM and running down the access road by 5:30.  I stretched it to a a half hour by running down the city street that the access road emptied into.  I ran in the nylon parka with the reflective tape strips attached.  It had warmed up enough, so that I didn’t need the parka for the gigs.

I wore it without the fleece sweat shirt under it.  As a matter of fact, I had nothing on under it.  The reflective tape strips adhered better to it than the jersey material.  I had two vertically stripes up the front.  They were about six inches apart.  Then I had the same thing on the back of the parka.  If a driver missed those, he was asleep, I thought.  I would have worn shorts, but it was a little too chilly for them in the early morning.

Tom was awake and the coffee was cooking when I returned to the room.  I went into the shower and stripped off the parka, and fleece running pants.  Then into the shower I went.  Breakfast was a repeat of the day before.  Orange juice and cereal.  The hot chocolate left a hell of a lot to be desired, even thought it was made with real milk, it was a poor substitute for real hot chocolate.  There was about half a cup of chocolate milk in the cooler, so I heated it.  It was far the better than the mixes.  The problem was I needed something I could buy at a convenience store.  I could get milk and cereal, though it was awfully expensive.  I could get enough dry hot chocolate mix to last a while at the grocery store.  It was a problem getting it to taste good, but I would work out I knew.  All I had to do was keep experimenting.

Meanwhile Tom went to the motel’s ice machine but came back without any ice.  “There is a sign down there that says, ‘do not fill up coolers’,” he said.  “I can’t believe I missed that.”

“No big deal.  I will have a second glass of orange juice.  That should use it all.  When we finish we will just toss the milk that is left  Is there any ice at all left in the cooler?” I asked.

“Just a little,”  Tom said.

“Just throw it out then.  We can resupply later,” I suggested.

I made as much hot chocolate as the insulated mug would hold, then washed the remaining milk down the drain.  We hit the road headed into Miami.  The drive was pretty short and uneventful.  I called Joan’s cell to find where we would be staying in Miami.  She booked us into a Miami motel which had been converted to all suites.

The Swamp dog suite was what had once been two motel rooms.  The room I entered first was a kitchen living, with a day bed.  The access to the second bedroom was through a large closet area.  There was a bathroom and the end of the closet. The bathroom itself had a door with a lock.

The bath could be entered from either room,  I had no idea what the price of a motel rooms in Miami was in the summer, but I would bet we were in the middle of their worst time of year.  It was miserably hot outside.

My guess was that the arena fee was much lower than it would have been in December, when tourist were running from the cold.  The Soda show had the advantage of not being a show designed for tourists but homies.

We checking in a day early, but the motel had a place for us.  “Let’s go by the area to check on the perimeter and their security arrangements before lunch,” I suggested to Tom.

“You really are all about the job aren’t you,” he suggested.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” I said smiling.  What I didn’t tell him was I had learned something from Rodney.  If Tom was screwing me, then if he wasn’t watching my back out of professionalism, he might be out of concern for his piece of ass.  Either way I got a partner I could depend on.  There are those who tell you that is a terrible reason to have sex with a man, but I personally have done it for a lot worse reasons and survived.

The arena was a football stadium.  It wouldn’t be used again for a while so it was no doubt cheap.  It would also seat a bunch of people, several thousand at least.  The supervisor of the work crew was on scene working with his men.

“Jethro, this is Tom,” I said.  “He is our replacement for Rodney.”

“Glad to meet you Tom.  So what happened to Rodney?” He asked.

“I got no idea, they just told me to pick up Tom for this gig.  I don’t think he is coming back though.”

About cindypress

sorry it is a mystery.
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2 Responses to sylvia124

  1. jack says:

    The job always has to come first. thanks

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