I could practically smell the intoxicating scent of her pussy from here. My cock twitched inside the fine silk trousers of my expensive tuxedo. I only visited Monaco once a year, to gamble at the Casino de Monte-Carlo, drink Bollinger champagne and fuck beautiful girls. I’d already won ā¬2500 on the roulette table, and had drunk an entire Jeroboam of Bolli, to the point where I was now practically pissing pure golden fizz. Next stop was Pussy Town, and I’d already decided that hers was my top destination.
She wore a slinky gold number, looked like a fucking Oscar statue, but with enormous tits. They spilled out the front of her dress, and each time she’d leaned forward expectantly to watch the roulette wheel spin, the creamy mammaries had jostled and bounced. I spent most of my time at the table imagining pulling that dress down, pushing those lovely big jugs together and filling my mouth with her nipples. Pulling them apart and burying my face between them. Pressing them together and sliding my hard prick between her full, ripe melons.
My dick leapt again, and I shot her the look. I knew she was into me. I’d caught her watching me, too, and as I’d left the table to sit a while by the bar, she’d wasted little time in following me over and sitting across from me. I bet she was damp right now. Probably sitting there with her wet cunt forming a stain on the bar stool, desperate and ready for cock. I raised an eyebrow and tilted my head towards the exit. Wanna get out of here?
She smiled, collected her purse, and walked towards me. Her hips moved rhythmically, sensually. I had a mental flash of her, naked, rocking and rolling those luscious hips as she rode my hard length, those bountiful breasts bouncing. My luck sure was in tonight, she was a damn looker, and her body was sheer perfection. I was gonna fuck her until our bones frickin’ melted.
She leant close to me, and whispered breathily, “I’m three hundred for the hour, but for a grand, you can have me for the whole night.”
Oh. Right.
I looked at my watch and did some quick math. I was ā¬2500 up tonight anyway, and there were at least four hours until sunrise. I took her hand, and led her out and back to my hotel. Fifteen hundred Euro in my pocket and a hot bit of snatch on the end of my dick for the next four hours? I’d call that a lucky night.
Just to contrast with your exquisitely constructed sentences, LMAO!
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Heehee. I was possessed by the spirit of a horny bloke! š
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This was fantastically smutty and I loved it. I had my suspicion she was all she seemed and I wasn’t disappointed. I’m also pleased he put his hand in his pocket too, may as well put those winnings to good use :p x
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Thanks Floss š I thought he was going to turn her down and leave disappointed when I started writing. But he took on a life of his own somewhere along the line!! I think it was the boobs š š
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Great tale – I’d call that lucky too!
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Thanks May š
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Well . . . sometimes you have to be in the right place at the right time . . . with the right budget . . . to strike it lucky !!!
Xxx – K
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His stars were certainly aligned šš
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Definitely a lucky night, but I I guess he wished the night lasted a bit longer š
Rebel xox
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I dare say. Although given how much champagne he’d been drinking, I wonder how much, err, stamina he had during the four hours he had š
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Seems she’d be worth it!
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Wow I would say luck was on his side! šā¤ļø
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I find it interesting to read material that I would normally bypass. A well written tale of sexual anticipation. I think this shows that females writing from the male perspective are better at it than vice versa.
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Thanks melody. I’m really flattered. š
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Lucky indeed. Well worth it, I am sure. Delicious read, Jupiter š
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Thanks TJ. I like to think she was šI’m glad you enjoyed it š
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