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Mary looked at me and said with a frog in her voice "I am so sorry, I can't think of anything worse that that, are you mad?" I said "No, not at the girl or girls, I am mad as hell at him. I am sure the poor housewife or wives he is fucking need it, I know that I do. The way I have felt these last two days I will fuck the first man that will make a pass at me. Maybe because I know realize what is going on with Phil, or because I am just sick and tired of not having an active healthy sex life. I am young, I have needs, I need a man that will love me and that will fuck me, Hell at this point I would just take the fucking part" with that we both broke out laughing.
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Pastor Profit opened the door and said "My you two are in great spirits, see you both later" we said our good bye's and he left. We went to the door and watched him walk away, I think Mary and I were thinking the same thing. As the door closed we both said at the same time "nice ass" we laughed again.
We had everything done and ready, in about an hour, then I asked Mary "would you like to come over for a while? Maybe I could show you the movie I was watching" Mary said "Thank you, I would like to but I promised a friend I would stop over and I do need to maybe tomorrow, say about 8 or 9 in the morning, say coffee?" I said, "Great then it is a date" I drove home wondering to myself if I should show Mary the Videotape. I parked the car and went straight to Peter and Sally's place I wanted to watch some more tapes and see how my fucking husband was making everyone else happy but me while I was unaware of what sex could be like or what was going on.
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The last bus from downtown Paris was almost full of men coming home from their last Friday night drink in some dark bar. I myself was going home after an evening of drinking at the metal pub with my friends, and I had been having such fun I couldn't bring myself to leave until I just had enough time to catch that last bus. Most of my friends had managed to catch a ride home, because they're uncomfortable alone in the dark Parisian alleys late at night. I am never scared though. I assume that the way I look will freak out all those drunken workers.
I guess now you wonder what I look like. Well I can proudly say I am perfectly comfortable with my body: I'm 5ft8in, 120 lbs., I am a bit big boned, but still very feminine with my perfectly shaped round breasts that I always show off by wearing my dresses or blouses a bit too small on the top, allowing my large nipples that are very often hard I must admit, to point through the fabric. My skin is milky white, and my ass is round and soft, but well shaped, and I always have it exposed, wearing either silky dresses or thin tight pants over a black lace G-string. I have very long wavy dark brown hair, a thin and creepy face, and I always wear black. Many people say I look like Morticia Adams when they first see me. Just so you know, I am also an 18-year-old math student.
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So back to that night, I was trying to get back home, drunk, and horny the way I always get horny when I've had a bit too much beer, and even more so since my boyfriend failed to show up at the metal pub for some reason unknown to me. It is fine with me if he wants to see other girls, as I allow myself to see other men, since monogamy is just another Christian tradition, but it always annoys me when he is not there when I need him.
I climbed on the bus, all the seats were already taken so I had to stand, and I waited impatiently for the bus to take me home, since I was tired and not feeling too well after all the beer I'd drunk. To my great annoyance, the bus didn't leave right away, and it seemed to me it was going to stay there forever, as drunken Parisian men kept pouring in. I looked around and noticed there was only one other girl on the bus, some stuck up blonde who was with this clean guy.
We were also the only white people, all the others were black or middle eastern or Indian men in their 40s, obviously sweating from the heat of all those bodies pressed against one another, considering the stench in that bus. It finally left, after what seemed like an eternity of waiting, and I tried to straighten up a bit as I was leaning against the man next to me, when I noticed the guy behind me was rubbing his crotch against my ass, making round movements. I felt my own crotch moisten, and figured since I was stuck in this bus, horny as hell, for a while, I might as well have some fun.
So I started pushing my ass up against his hardening cock, and deliberately lifted my arms to grab a handle, so he could have access to my breasts. I could feel his heavy breathing, tainted with the smell of alcohol, brushing the side of my neck. It didn't take long before he grabbed my breasts and started playing with them roughly. I was getting more and more excited, almost unbearably so, but I enjoyed turning this guy on even more. That's when I decided to get the game going even further.
I took one of my hands away from the handle over my head and started stroking his cock through the fabric of his pants. Everything then started to happen really fast. I wasn't paying attention to anything other than the increasing moisture in my crotch, and it turned out the bus was taking its first stop. The man I'd been playing with suddenly grabbed my arm and pushed me out of the bus, and I was too drunk, tired, and dazed to resist.
I found myself on the pavement, trying to catch my breath, facing this man for the first time, and wondering what would happen next. Because it's one thing to play with a faceless man on a crowded bus, but it's another one to be alone with that man in a dark street in the middle of Paris, faraway from home and with no way to get there. The man was white, surprisingly enough. He was big and tall, with a big bearded face and cold light blue eyes. He was balding, and his hair was grayish. He was relatively cleanly dressed, and gray hair came out of his shirt, which turned me on. I like hairy men. I also knew from the touch that his cock was big.
While all of this was going on in my head, he was still holding my right arm very firmly as I limply followed him, looking down, starting to feel slightly ashamed and uncomfortable under his cold blue stare. He pulled my arm to have me follow him, and as I was drunk and very much turned on, I did without fear. He guided me up to an apartment, his place I figured, which was on the third floor of a decent looking building from the early 19th century.
As he literally pushed me in, I did start to feel nervous. The hall was bright white, unfurnished, totally empty and clean to the point where it looked clinical. "Take all your clothes off" he said, and I heard his deep authoritarian voice for the first time. I thought I might as well obey, he was big, looked strong enough, I was in no shape of putting up a fight, and had no way to go home, and let's not forget how horny I was.