Covered Bridges-6.

Chapter 6

It doesn’t take long before John and I are in a cab and heading to my hotel. He really is a good kisser and once we’re in the cab and sitting down it’s very much about the cuddling and him kissing me and his hands moving over my body.

I know…

I know I talk about a lot of sex but it’s just something that really is part of me. I was a hooker, escort, porn actress…stripper for a long time and you form certain likes and habits.

But when I was in Japan teaching English I just lived kind of like a monk sexually. The guys that might have been interested looked well…dangerous. And honestly I’m very picky about Japanese men. I’m just not into them except for a few exceptions that I never really ran into. Now I like almost all Asian women…but I never really was with them either.

But literally it’s been years since I’ve been with a guy….and the meal, the tour, the conversation, the drinks and the dancing and now the kissing.

I want to be with this guy a whole lot.

I moan into his neck and his ear as John’s hands do amazing things to my breasts. I’m so hot and aching and getting so horny. I’m so tempted to give him a blowjob in the taxi.

We get to the hotel and it’s like one of those scenes for a movie with the hot couple is steaming things up and they’re all over each other in the halls and everything. John pins me nicely to the doorway kissing me and pressing against me while his hands cup and squeeze my tits just right. Yeah right now my breasts are my tits and what ever other dirty kind of words.

It took me a few times to put that damned card into the thing. What ever was so wrong with keys?

Oh screw it.

We’re inside and we’re headed straight for the bedroom and I use a lot, a lot of will power and break the kiss.

“John…just give me a few…I want to get ready…”

“You look beautiful as is Haley.”

“I want this but just on my terms…please, it’ll be worth the wait.”

“Okay.”

I grab one of my bags and head into the bathroom and I’ll spare you the gruesome details of getting “Ready” except I also do a fast was with a hot washcloth to get rid of the sweat from John working me up and put on some baby powder scented Secret deodorant and then break out my really small bottle of Chanel perfume. It’s expensive but I like the class it has…just a little dabs actually in the small of my back…under my breasts…back of my neck and the bit still on my fingers gets to slightly scent my underarms I use it very sparingly in all the places I put it on because girls can perfume a guy to death. Me I just want the hint of that smell on me. I wash my hands and reapply a sluttier lipstick and do my eyes and then slip into my lingerie.

White stockings with garter and the old styled seams in the back. White lace bra and panties.

I slip on a pair of my silver and gray 3 inch heels and sway to the doorway. “Hey…I don’t suppose…”

I was going to ask him but I don’t know he’s got the bed turned down, the windows open for some air, some music playing from somewhere and there’s candles lit too. But like was saying I’m going to ask him to open that champagne when he interrupts me by popping the cork.

“Oh…you’ve been here how long?”

“Long enough that I’ve really had time to learn what a beautiful woman looks like.”

He pours us both some and we take a few sips; have some champagne kisses and slow dance to the bed. He turns me around so my back’s to the bed and he can lay me down but instead of that he keeps me by the bed while he touches me, feels me and dances the rest of his clothes off until he’s just in well they’d be tidy whities if the weren’t actually black.

Nice package, really nice package and he kisses me as I rub it. He touches slides fingertips over my body in shivery ways and then after breaking and long very hot and passionate kiss I slide down John’s body.

I pull him free and stoke and kiss him to fullness and he has a nice, very nice impressive fullness. Nine inches I’d say…that’s big, that really big actually and just the right thickness not too thick so that’s nice too and I salivate almost as I pull back his foreskin.

I pull a condom from my purse and slide into onto him. I smile at John. “Yes I have Magnums and yes baby we have to use them…until we know each other’s safe.”

“Fine by me Haley I’m just wondering about the guys that you meet if you have those.”

He’s smiling as he says it but I look him in the eyes. “A girl never knows…but John…you’re the first man I’ve been with in a long long time.”

“Oh.” I smile and I open my mouth and I’ll say this I’m a damned good cocksucker, I’ve had huge amounts of practice and I truly love what it feels like. And John’s ‘Oh…ok…oh, oh…Haley…” As I deepthroat him from the very start. I look up at him and do my best cock-smile and flutter my eyelashes at him.

Yeah…

Honestly that’s the key to really having an impact with guys. The deep throat…now don’t get me wrong there are lots of guys that’d just love to be with someone, and there’s lot’s of guys that regular sex is just fine then there are the guys that have had a blowjob, they might be happy with that, really happy because a whole lot of the time a good blow job can be better than pussy. A deep throat experience is the blowjob where they tilt their head back, make noises they’ve never made in sex until then and thump their head on the mattress over and over or against the wall.

I’ve given and received. I much prefer to give them…but that’s me. I knew from the first guy I was with in teachers college I was a confirmed cocksucker. And after I got a blowjob myself that feeling only got more intense. I love everything about it from the feeling to the taste if he’s clean and disease free. The friction and the warmth and to be honest and frank…I love the power.

And there is a lot of power with men when you can do that for them…unless he’s getting that treatment regularly, or is in porn…it’s a big deal. I move my throat; I pump my head back and forth and by the fifth stroke his finders are winding through my hair and his hips are moving.

I love this too…it’s very erotic for me….lot’s of reasons…But it’s the part kink part intimacy…It doesn’t take John long before he slows his strokes, his breathing changes and I feel him start to tense.

Even with a regular Bj cup his balls…and just where the underside of them start massage it with the tips of your fingers and he’ll have a real good cum…it relaxes the valves or something but all I know it works and every guy loves it.

I’m very ball friendly. I honestly think they’re a erogenous zone that women ignore on guys…just a little feel girls, a careful cup let him feel your body heat, caressing in my fave just the finger tips and all you have to do is run your fingers through he soft hairs.

We gotta give back the foreplay sometimes instead of thinking them being with us is all the foreplay guys need. I really hope he’s clean…All I can think of as John cums and cums is that I’d really like to taste him.

I guide him post orgasm to the bed and get him to lie down. I slip on top of him and kiss, and sort of salsa under his touch. I let out a breathy, little gaspy moan as he pulls my bra off and takes my breasts into his hands and his mouth.

I love being me, I love being a girl, being pretty and I love my breasts…And John is no stranger to a breast…he holds them just right cupped and not squeezing tight but squeezing and then moving his hands…light turns that caress and his mouth, is just magic…hot, wet…nuzzling my aureole and they’re sensitive so sensitive that my nipples poke out so hard…and the feeling of really hard sensitive nipples aches in a more delicious needy way than any hard on I’ve ever had. John sucks on them and he nibbles driving the sensitivity up higher and…and…I get pushed over the edge and fill my panties in a gaspy girly squeal as I’m biting the meat of his shoulder.

I can be a really slutty, girly, whore in bed.

I like making those noises…the sounds of the person you’re with can bring things over…the way you do things matter. Then I small tiny voice ask still with my face into John’s shoulder. “I need you inside me John…it’s been too long…take me…teach me…make me live like the woman I need to be.”

Ask nice, be sweet, and make a guy feel important like this. But only the good guys. An ass that thinks that this is his rightful due ain’t worth my time.

John rolls me over and pulls my panties off and uses them to clean me off…more kisses and touches and he skins up and takes his time easing into me…

I cry out…girly cry, gasps… “Hunh…Hunh…aaie…uh…aaie…oh…oooh…Hot..oh so hot…Johnny, Johnny…big…oh…big…” Stare at him, play with my breasts and wrap my stoking legs and heels around him.

It feels good, hurts at first in a great way and the feeling behind the sounds and words are real…but that really breathy, sexy, baby-doll girl stuff really gets to guys…you be that for them and they will change as a lover…be sweet, try so hard.

Yes it’s sort of acting but it’s also letting go and actually embracing your girly little inner whore. It stops being an act if you just let go and let yourself cry, be girly…squeal…love the sex, love the cock.

I’ve come to terms with this side of me. And I’m like this in the bedroom only; I try to be a nice but strong person. I don’t let people walk over me. But in the bedroom…I’m open with my lovers…good to them, open and giving tem my trust.

Trust is huge to me.

Respect is huge to me.

I will give out the care and love and be really, really sweet to you. But I had better get it back. Honestly I’m too old for games.

John is not playing games, not right now and he’s slow and careful and respectful even as hot and horned up as I’ve gotten him.

The breathy upper pitched moan of sweet satisfaction is real enough coming from me. Like I said…when I though I was gay it was a revelation to me and now this is me being made love to and likely more.

I can say with honesty I love cock. I love the feeling of being taken, of him sinking into me and the shared heat inside….the hardness but still flesh…the way I mold to him like we were meant for this.

But it’s not gay sex, as much as I still have junior I’m still having het-sex. When I was with Julie I was having bi-girl on girl sex with junior being the living sex toy. I’m not like a lot of t-girls because I don’t hate junior.

That’s right I don’t. The sex I have with him is good but not as good as this is. But see junior will be transformed someday and I’ll get the operation done so they’re still part of me. And I’ve come to this way of thinking too. Junior is what is guarding my virginity.

Oh yes I know I’m the last thing from being a virgin. But if I can find someone that okay with me being me as I am now and we start having an actual relationship one that is real and not some tranny chaser who only loves me for that then I’ll get the work done.

In short I’m saving my vagina for the guy that I’m going to marry.

And when I find a guy like John. A guy that is a contender, I really dig deep and go all out. Not fake but I do sort of go “This is me, This is who I am.” And some guys can handle that and some guys can’t and I’ve had enough close near touches of happy I know it’s out there and I know I have to keep trying.

And I’m opening up to John…the love making is amazing. It’s been so long that I’ve lost that deep in feeling of being a sensual creature for awhile. It’s coming back to me now…John’s waking up my inner tigress.

Missionary like this legs around him is good…switching to my legs over his shoulders is better…he can feel my legs, the stockings but it opens me more to him and changes the angle and give him something to hold onto for leverage when he really want’s to be powerfully affectionate. That changed angle is so good just right so that he can really strike my little woman inside of me.

Yeah…I call my prostate my little woman because she get’s you off when you’re getting fucked and she’ll still make you cum when Junior’s not able. Add that and to the fact the it’s the part of you that’s directly liked to how Junior get’s stiff…she’s my little girl deep inside that shares her orgasms and gives me wood.

I love getting banged that hard because it makes my breasts bounce and I hold my hands just over them enough that as they bounce my nipples are gliding over my palms driving me deeper into that part of me that is wanton and sexual and I cry out cumming…oh getting there and Cupping them and squeezing them as I do takes in into that hurt a little that I came that hard.

John follows me into his own bliss…he must have taken something to help be cause his recharge rate is that of an eighteen year olds. I fucking love Viagra and it’s off shoots. I know it’s a guy macho thing but it can be wonderful.

Like I get a guy like John who has so much wonderful experience and is a great lover able to last like he’s back in his prime. And it really is a wonderful thing.

Like…him kissing me and making out with me and the foreplay even into round three for him that is still important to me and a man that has the thoughts to take a sip of the champagne and to hold some in his mouth and then take a nipple into his mouth to hold it there while the bubbles play with me and he does these tiny tip flicks with his tongue.

I guess the rest is pretty much just great sex.

Me on top.

Me from behind doing downward facing dog as he really bangs me hard…me screaming into the pillow breast squashed to the mattress and me fisting the sheets.

Me from behind on top…then in his arms and he’s giving me a reach around…more and more until I get to bliss.

I call bliss that time when you cum…but junior doesn’t…can’t he’s literally out of juice and this is something else…he gives me two of those.

If I wasn’t fucked to being boneless I’s have give him a standing ovation.

Sex is so funny.

Usually after sex the guy rolls over and does the sleep thing and the girl wants to talk to have the emotional connection.

The emotional post sex cigarette.

Then there’s when you have really great sex…and she’s limp, wrung out from the intense sex and lovemaking and sweaty, hair soaked or damp and their make-up is ruined and all she can do is roll over and fall into satisfied exhaustion. And the guy this time after that has had such a sexual intimate encounter that now he has the walls blown down he wants to stare at you and touch you and to talk.

I love the irony of that.

He pulls me close and he snuggles I think he said a few things but I was taken to such a high sexually that now that everything’s done my mind and body is in neutral and I’m coasting down that hill into sleep.

…………………………………..I Love the feeling of waking up and you’ve been boned so well that even in the morning you’re still feeling it. It’s not stretched you actually bounce back pretty quick form that. No it’s just the act, the friction, having something inside it’s not the state you’re usually in as a person and your body is telling you that.

It’s that so finely fucked feeling.

It’s been too long.

There’s a note and a carafe of coffee there and some croissants there with a note.

“Gone to get my car I’ll be back to get you soon. Love John.”

I fold the note and save it in my purse.

I get up and slip my panties on and take the room service tray and wheel it to the window where there’s a high backed chaise and I sit and sip coffee bare breasted in front of the window.

The croissants are fresh, likely baked here and two are plain and two have had dark rich chocolate folded into them. There’s jam too and a little pot of butter with rich, rich heavy cream folded into it. Its beurre de la coeurs…butter of the heart and a very Quebec City thing where they have evaporated cream and fold it with butter. It’s their take on clotted cream which they stole here from the English when they were here.

Some of that and strawberry jam that was finished with what tastes like grated or zested lemon peel…

I really, really love this city and I’m still sipping my coffee just enjoying everything at such a relaxed pace I drift into nothing…just spacing out happy and feeling the cool breeze mixing with the sun from my window as I just watch outside, birds and people and traffic.

It’s John sitting on the chair of the vanity with the hotel pad of stationary and the scratchy sound of him sketching away that get’s me back down from at least cloud five.

“You want me to stay here?” I’ve modeled before. South America is filled with artists…I actually like doing that sometimes. I feel a bit sort of cultured? And Trans or not it’s a really great feeling to have some one look at you and see something artistic about you.

And every time it’s different.

And you learn sometimes things about yourself that you never knew. Or even articulate. There’s a choppy styled portrait of me in my things in storage of me in a sundress at Montu-Pichu its rough on purpose and full if light and color and you can just sort of tell it’s me and I’m holding my hat on my head in the wind and I’m smiling.

I love that picture it was done by a dear friend who was with me on that tour who’s since died of HIV complications but the first time I saw it. And saw it was me? I cried and had no idea why…I just had that reaction to it…and they were good clean tears.

I bite soft chew my lip before taking another coffee sip and looking at John. He’s got that look that artists get…seeing me but not seeing me but at the same time seeing more than me.

“Please.” Is all he says.