Out Of Town

It was spring season. A cooking competition was being held in Chicago for young people earning scholarships. I’m not a chef, so obviously, I wasn’t really competing, but I was Mr. Chef Tim’s assistant–his human fax machine. While he was down in the large ballroom, helping his students out, I was sitting at a desk in his hotel room, taking phone calls and fax reports. I didn’t mind it. I got paid really well and I mostly just relaxed and watched TV.
On the second to the last day, Tim didn’t have to stay out as long because all they had was a prep-talk conference. So, once he walked through the door at around three o’clock, I gave him his phone messages and headed back to my room.
Time flew by quickly and it was already 9:05 when I walked through the door of my room. My hair was drenched from swimming, so the first thing I did was take a shower. Now it was 10:10, and I’m ready for bed. I had on my pink Victoria’s Secret night shirt, which came down just slightly past the thigh, black-cotton undies, and bra. I sat on my bed under the comforters and turned on the tube to watch some late night programs while I write this stupid story that has absolutely no fucking meaning…

JUST KIDDING…

About 10 minutes later, the bedroom door slides open. Tim walked in. He was in a plan white T and boxers. I mute the TV and sat up straight to respond to his interruption. Then he starts…

Chef Tim: Hi.
Tatum: Hey.
Chef Tim: You don’t appear to be sleeping.
Tatum: I’m a late sleeper.
Chef Tim: Making me wonder how you’re capable of getting up in the morning.

He turns to look at the soundless TV.

Chef Tim: I see you’re watching something.
Tatum: Yeah, I am.
Chef Tim: Anything good?
Tatum: Sort of.

There was a pause, then Tim quickly sat down on the edge of the bed next to me.

Chef Tim: Tatum, I need to be honest and straight forward with you.
Tatum: Ok…

Tim grabs the remote and turns off the TV.

Chef Tim: I think you’re a very unique young adult. You’re not like other girls around your age where all you think about is shopping, partying, and being with your boyfriends. You see more to life and I admire that and find it to be a gift–not to mention, I find you to be a very attractive…wait, attractive is an understatement, I think you’re sexy. Sorry if that makes you uncomfortable.
Tatum: If this is you being “straight forward” you really suck at it. ::laugh::
Chef Tim: Right to the point…to conclude to whether or not you are the unique young woman that I so far see, I want to know if you feel the same way…if not before, then now?
Tatum: Uh…wow. I find everything you said to be very flattering and influential, but I’m sorry, I don’t have any deep feelings for you. Not before and not now. I’m sorry.
Chef Tim: Oh…do you at least find me attractive?
Tatum: Sure, but, I believe it takes more than exterior appearances and someone a little more closer to my age to sweep me off my feet.
Chef Tim: Allow me to change your mind.
Tatum: Excuse me?
Chef Tim: Tell me something, are you a virgin?
Tatum: What?
Chef Tim: Have you had sex yet? Be honest.
Tatum: Yes I have, but I don’t see how that’s any of your business.
Chef Tim: So you must know your way around the ropes, huh?

Tim scoots closer to me. He creeps his hand up and down my knee.

Chef Tim: How many were there?
Tatum: Three.
Chef Tim: Really?

I nod my head awkwardly. I felt a cold rush up my spine.

Chef Tim: How old was the oldest?
Tatum: Twenty-two.
Chef Tim: Ah…a young boy.
Tatum: He happens to be a boyfriend whom I love and been with since I was fifteen.

I snap at his insult, but that only made him move in closer with his hand on my thigh.

Chef Tim: Boys at that age haven’t mastered any skill yet. Until they sleep with more than one woman. Tell me something more, do you practice any foreplay.
Tatum: Sometimes.
Chef Tim: What do you like to do or have done to you?
Tatum: Being fingered works best for me.
Chef Tim: No oral?
Tatum: Don’t care for it.

His hands slowly go in between my legs and up toward my pussy. He moves in even closer.

Chef Tim: Why?
Tatum: Uh…

I can feel his finger slide up and down my pussy lips. I panicked.

Tatum: I just don’t care for the taste of a man’s penis and I received it once and it didn’t do anything for me.
Chef Tim: ::laugh:: I can understand you not like giving, but if you’re not turned on from a man going down on you, then he wasn’t doing right.
Tatum: I guess…

Tim pushed my underwear out of the way from my pussy lips. He begins to rub his finger through. My mouth is trembling in fear as to how to put this to an end. Then, Tim gave me a small French kiss. He pulls away just enough to say, “I’ll make you feel good,” then reconnects our tongues and pushes his fingers all the way inside.
I felt a shock of sensations rush up my abs and hips. I wasn’t sure if I liked or hated it. I did wanted it to stop before it went even further. I have Tim one good shove and moved away.

Tatum: Stop it!
Chef Tim: Tatar tot!
Tatum: Don’t use that nickname anymore. You are shunned from using it.
Chef Tim: I called you that because you’re acting like a child. All I want to do is pleasure you.
Tatum: I know you do, but you can’t. forgive me for being a baby, but you are way too old for me and married and I have a boyfriend–it’s not right.
Chef Tim: If you don’t want me to treat you like some teenage kid, then quit acting like one.
Tatum: Good night, Tim.

I turned off my light and prepared to fall asleep. But that didn’t stop Tim for being thick headed. He turned my light on again. I turned onto my back to swing at him, but he grabbed my arm and looked me straight in the eye with a serious face.

Chef Tim: I’ll take good care of you.

He kisses me romantically, wrapping me trapped arm around his neck. One of his hands goes up into my shirt and under my bra. He cups my tit to feel the soft skin and nipple. Gently caressing my tit, Tim uses his other hand to pull down my undies. He pulls away from the kiss. He lifts up my shirt just enough to reveal my breasts. He puts his mouth on my free nipple, fingering my clit at the same time. Probing and vigorously rubbing, trying to get my juices flowing. The strong currents forced my legs apart, allowing Tim more access. He stopped sucking. I didn’t want any of this, but I also didn’t want him to think I was like the rest of the dumb teens. He was kissing me again. Our tongues wrestling each other like crazy as he pushed two fingers inside of me and began fucking me with them. His lips and tongue muffled my moans. I tried grabbing his arm so that I could push him away, but his arm was moving really fast with strength. He was getting rougher every time I tried grabbing his hand. He knew I was being hesitant and was disciplining me for it. My pussy felt the friction and the heat weakened my muscles. He was getting so rough that I could hear it all moving. His fingers would twist and pull out, then jab back in with quite an impact. Suddenly, he stopped and pulled his fingers out. He stopped kissing me, only to suck my cum off his fingers. I was so scared of what he would do next, just from hearing him hum from tasting me.

Tatum: Ok, I want to stop now.
Chef Tim: No, not yet, Tatar Tot.

He turned off the light. It got really dark in the room that I couldn’t see what was happening. I felt him get under the covers. He tugged my undies off all the way. My pussy met the draft, which did not help to calm me. Tim got himself on top of me, with his legs pushing mine further apart. I knew what was about to come. His boxes slide down and his T brushed against my fa
ce while he pulled it off. I thought he wanted the rest of my clothes to come off too, but he was turned on by me just wearing a long shirt. With his hard thighs, he held mine open, and positi
oned his cock right in my center. All it took was one thrust to get half-way in. Tim was pretty big and rock hard for a man in his forties. I could feel the veins tickle as he was entering in a little more. Tim’s hot breath and heat from his sweat was beating my cheeks and forehead. He was whispering things in his breath such as “holy shit” “fuck” “wow, tight.” I thought that maybe he would shoot his load any second and it would all be over, but no, he started to thrust back and forward. His cock smoothly coming slightly out and somewhat roughly back in again. Repeats of this was putting me in heaven and it got smoother and rougher. My goose bumps rose up to the occasion. I was in love. Wait…NO! I’m not supposed to being loving it. I’m not supposed to be in love with this man. I can’t stand how arrogant he was being and oooohhh…NO! Please, God, don’t turn me into a cheating girlfriend! Mmmmmmm….Ooooooh…

Chef Tim: You like that, huh? Nothing like a much older, experienced MAN giving you what a woman needs. Take it, bitch. You know you crave it, now take it all.

He sat up on his needs, holding me on his cock. He was slamming me hard–without mercy. Tim was panting, groaning, and uttering dirty words to me–telling me how hot my body is, how hot my pussy is, and wet and tight. I was grabbing onto the sheets, which were lightly damp and warm in our sweat–mostly his. Tim’s huge balls were whipping themselves at my ass the more he went at me. Then he stopped and pulled out. He told me to sit up and turn around. I did what he said and I kept my legs open. He sat on his knees and sat me down on his lap. His cock slid into me again, easier this time. The pushing and slamming started up again, only this time he was right against my g-spot.

Chef Tim: Do ya like that? Does my cute T.A. want it from behind?

I couldn’t answer. All I did was squeal. Every five thrusts, he would he pull me down, and push up. I stopped breathing every time he did that. Every time he did that, I would that would be it…either he would cum or I would cum…or we would both cum! After the tenth time, my thighs buckled and it gave up the juice. I was so tired, I just hung over his wrapped arms. Tim whispers into my ear.

Chef Tim: Hey, I didn’t get to cum, yet.

I didn’t know what to say.

Chef Tim: Lay down on your tummy, Tatar Tot. I’ll give ya something that I know you never had.

Tim let go of me, and I dropped onto my stomach. My face hit the pillow. He stayed in between my legs and lifts my ass up an inch. Uh-oh. I did not want that. I knew what he was up to. And, yet, I was too naive to stop him. He snugged his cock into my ass cheeks and shoved his way into my crack. Tim shoved my face into the pillow to smoother my screech of ripping pain. He could only get maybe a third of his cock in and started to go in and out from there. I was in throbbing pain. It felt like a knife cutting into my ass and stomach. I could have sworn I was bleeding, but that was just from the moisture. Twenty reps and it was over. He pulled out and stayed out. I rolled over onto my back again and Tim laid next to me and cuddled, kissing my face and neck. I fell asleep almost immediately.

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