Her body firmed up and I decided to run as fast as I could. And then an anger swelled up inside me and I was going to give her a beating, right in her most sensitive area. I was going to beat her pussy up with my stick. I let her have it, and for every sin she committed against me or efficiency, she got a thrust into her insides, and she quivered every time, and she took a beating on her insides as well as her outside, and she had to have been sore on the outside of her pussy. And the slaps were loud now and she was wet and crying.
She began coming just before I came. She gave a long “ohh” out and feeling her tense up down there made me come. She grabbed me as though she were holding on for dear life, on the edge of a cliff. She acted cold, but she was hot, perspiring, her vagina warm to the touch.
We cuddled for seconds, and then she said, “I’m roasting.”
She pushed me off of her and I rolled onto my back, my stomach like a rock because the food had cemented in it. I put my hand on my stomach and slowly, softly rubbed it, easing the ball inside of me. She complained about her hair and then quickly went into the bathroom to wash herself.
I can’t complain. After all, it was the best sex I’ve had, will ever have. If I hadn’t wanted to cuddle a little, I would have been there in bed bragging to myself, but as it was, I was there feeling lonely.
I can be lonely in a crowd if I’m not getting the kind of attention I want, or I can feel satisfied when I’m alone if I want to be alone. Monterey was that kind of place, the kind of place that can make you feel irretrievably lonely or peacefully content. No one would ever bother you there, no one would walk up to you and start a conversation. You weren’t burdened by all of that. You didn’t even have to look at anyone and no one would look at you for long without a good reason. You could be by yourself at the mall and by yourself in the gym and by yourself walking around the neighborhood or by the ocean. I could go hiking alone and stay alone and think and think and enjoy the outdoors and only the outdoors. Or you could be sitting in the public library on a busy day and not a soul would notice you and you thought maybe you were invisible or maybe this was just a memory or a bad dream and you were afraid to say hi to someone or even look at someone for then they would notice you and you would be shamed and cast out of the library because everyone would know it was you who had tried to initiate, and that of course was against the rules. There was no tolerance for desperation in a place like Monterey.