This deliciously hot erotic story is written and read by Tabitha Rayne. Catch up on Part 1 here, then click ‘play’ to hear Tabitha read you the next part of this incredibly hot story.
Driving home, worn out, used and well and truly fucked, we float along on that soporific plane of satisfaction, occasionally catching each other’s eye in the rearview mirror. Some might imagine our trip as a wholesome date between a long married couple, where others might picture a truly debauched night of utter sexual chicanery. I like to think that most people would choose the latter… though I suspect…
My hand creeps to where his rests on the bulb of the gearstick and I squeeze my fist around his, biting my bottom lip as we make eyes at each other again. I let out a squeak when his look flashes one of warning… shhhhh don’t let on. We’ve done that ridiculous thing of organising a family lunch the day after and it’s all I can do not to tease him about wearing matching butt plugs to the event. He burns red as I squeeze again, this time guiding his hand lower around the neck of the stick and back up, beginning to rhythmically pulse it. A groan gargles in his throat and I know he’s picturing me, hair plastered to my saliva and tear-streaked face as I open my mouth wide for a thick rubber cock while he rails me from behind, pushing me deeper on to it.
Unnggg.
I cross my legs and look out of the window at the passing fields and innocence. The seam of my jeans rubs against my bruised puffy labia and I wince, but in that way that signals maybe this is the nice hurt. The echo of the stretch. The reverberation of the sting. I tense and release my thighs building the sensation, coaxing the physical memory of fuck to sear it into my present.
This spa break was exactly what we needed. You might be physically close, going through the motions of life in a busy family, but every now and then you have to pause. Especially when you realise you’ve barely noticed your partner’s existence in a week despite sitting on the couch watching shit TV together and sharing a bed. The familiarity that turns to invisibility. We swore it wouldn’t happen to us. Made promises to keep us alive. The thing that makes us, us. Separate but together. Unique halves of a whole.
Yes, it’s sex that keeps us united. I worry sometimes that the rest of it is the truth… that strange living with a stranger, or your own shadow… life has a way of doing that. So I worry that if sex is the only true connection, is it that bad? Does it matter. We fuck so good. We fit so perfectly. And to top it off we are both derangedly filthy in our own safe sexy ways.
The bags had jangled and clanked as we put them onto the hotel trolley, and I had to stifle a cough when the concierge checked we were only there for one night.
I felt like a super naughty schoolgirl about to get found out and banished from this opulent kingdom but when my husband replied the affirmative, he just said:
“Very good, Sir.” A phrase I’ll now forever associate with our trip…
The room wasn’t even a room—it was a suite. We got the best we could afford when you’ve carefully saved then decide, fuck it, you only live once, kinda budget. If it’s over a hundred quid, what difference does it really make by how much? It becomes too abstract a concept after that. What could possibly be the value of a sublimely naughty experience that only you and this person could have?
“Could you send up a bucket of ice please?” I said, holding my hand over the receiver when my fella made a ‘oo lah-de-dah check you’ motion while already stripped down to his socks. I’d glared and slammed down the phone and squealed as he’d grabbed my feet and dragged me roughly to him, ragdolling me down the bed. We’d drank the first bottle of champers before the ice had even arrived. Stupid and giggly and no idea if we were meant to tip. It was mortifying not to know, but even worse that we had no cash anyway.
We put on the VPN and connected the laptop with our favourite porno onto the huge hotel telly. A streak of paranoia heightened my excitement at the familiar worry that we’d somehow hacked into the spa intranet and now everyone in the whole place was watching a woman taking two men in full raunchy bliss.
Now very randy indeed and quite tipsy, I mimicked the woman on the screen, a seductive temptress commanding two men to fill her up.
Just because I only had one to hand, doesn’t mean a thing nowadays. I’d already scoped out the huge bathroom and there was a full-length mirror with plenty of space all around where I’d stuck a suction cup dildo ready for abuse.
The mirror would mean he got the best of all worlds, my man. I ushered him through and bent at the waist towards my rubber daddy, licking my lips, smearing my tongue in the most lewd way I could muster. It did the trick and my husband’s expression turned dark and focussed, in that way I love so.
“Come on then big boy,” I said and stretched my mouth wide, watching him, watch me suck a dick right in front of him. His hands were on each hip, squeezing the flesh so hard I almost winced but then reached round behind myself to pull my own ass cheeks apart. His eyes flitted from mouth to ass and I could just see the tip of his rigid dick pointing skyward over my rump. Then, he did that magic of all motions and canted his hips very slightly to the side and wrapped one hand around his cock.
Fuck. If you know, you know. That tiny little jerk to get it aligned and in the correct position. I was playing with fire now. My mouth over the dildo was the only thing holding me back from faceplanting the mirror and I looked to see the panic wrestle in my expression. Fuck yes. A saner woman would brace herself with her palm up against the glass, but I’m not her. Not one bit. I kept my hands firmly attached to my arse cheeks as he rubbed the tip of his cock up and down my slit, preparing for invasion.
As he pressed forward, he could see the dildo forge deeper into my mouth with every inch and, gentleman that he is, pulled my hips back to keep me steady. Good man, I thought but hoped he wasn’t going to be that good.
Gripping me fast he shoved in, hard, my cunt walls welcomed him, tight and dripping. He slid slowly past every ridge right to the hilt where he nestled for a second or two before giving a filthy shunt that had me gagging on the dick. Here we go, here we go now, the words rolled in around and through me in the same rhythm as his thrusts. Building, growing, pushing, deeper thicker longer. I opened my throat and closed my eyes, only able to concentrate on widening to let in the hard rubber. My body rebelled, jerking and spasming, and I coughed right off the dildo. Panicked he pulled out and stricken, turned me to him, peeling the snot and tear streaked hair from my cheeks. I smiled, I know it was a salacious and wicked grin because I caught glimpse of myself in the mirror opposite.
“I’ve got an idea,” I said, bending again while keeping eye contact and backing my arse to where my mouth had just been. He fisted my hair just as he had in the car and the last thing I saw was the slack determined look of a hungry man about to go in for the kill at a hunt as he pushed my head onto his dick while watching my cunt envelope the dildo stuck to the mirror. He could see it all. I imagined him watching, I could see in my mind’s eye what he could see and it turned me the fuck on. Holding my hair and my nape in one tight fist, he dragged me up and down on his cock and I slammed back onto the shaft of the dildo, pulling out until the tip was almost free so he could watch me stretch again and again to fuck it. My pussy was insatiable and needy. We fucked until our eyes were bloodshot, and just as I thought I was about to pass out, his balls pulled up into his pelvis and I pushed my fingers to his taint to feel the surge gather. I fucking love that moment. The gasp before the yawn, the silence before the wail, the dark before the dawn.
And I was there too, a dazzling heat igniting at the tip of my clit, burning and twisting, coiling and bursting out of my pussy. We hung there like that for what could have been an eternity or a millionth of a second, and my orgasm shattered over the mirror as his railed down my open neck, warmth surging and spasming at both ends. Our hearts were hammering and I don’t even know if we were making any noises at all. We must have. Who could possibly have stayed silent through that?
As he softened, I pressed back, rubber cock still inside my twitching pussy and looked up at him. His dick throbbed gently, releasing all of its energy into me and I managed to catch a reflection of a reflection of his face untensing, uncoiling, releasing and also softening. We’d tightened every fibre of our soul in a deeply filthy yet intimate way and this was the moment we’d been awaiting.
He ran us a big bubble bath and we sipped ice cold bubbly while submerged in the foamy fragrant water giggling every now and then at our naughty depravity.
“That was fun,” I say when I spot him glancing at my big dopy grin yet again in the rearview mirror. He knows exactly what I’ve been thinking about.
“Sure was.” He squeezes the stick to switch up a gear and cold white dread streaks through me.
“Oh FUCK!” I shriek and he slams on the brakes, we lurch forward and he’s panicking.
“What, fucking what?!” he roars, when someone almost rearends us.
I’m so mortified I can barely say it.
I cover my face in my hands, cheeks burning with shame.
“What? For fucks sake!”
“The fucking dildo,” I say, nausea ending me as in my mind’s eye I see our rubber daddy in the hotel mirror, the imprint of my ass seared around his reflection, bobbing as the cleaner opens the bathroom door…
I really do put the ho in hotel.
If you enjoyed this stunning hotel sex story, check out Tabitha’s website for more of her incredible work, and head to the free audio porn page for more sexy stories read aloud.