Saturday, April 20, 2013

Greek Love

GREEK LOVE You may have read the other stories here, fantastic tales of fictional characters who act nothing like the men and women you know in real life. You may find them entertaining - I don't know. What I do know is that this tale is true, along with all the others I plan to relate to you. I'm 29, a high powered investment banker at one of Wall Street's most prestigious shops (which will go unnamed here), blonde, hunky and 6 feet tall, weighing in at 170 pounds. I'm charming. Intelligent. Wealthy. I went to all the right schools. i'm a rising star. And my cock has slain more wives than you have probably ever met. It's a monster - nine inches and thick. More than one petite wife has gasped in awe as I've disrobed in front of her, suddenly uncertain whether she could stretch herself to embark on the encounter of a lifetime (in the end, I find they always can). My job as an international mergers and acquisitions advisor finds me wining and dining nationalities of all types, and often I'll find myself out with a pudgy foreigner and his wife. If I wind up fucking her, obviously, it has to remain discreet - I can't very well be responsible for losing an account - so I don't brag about my conquests to my friends or colleagues. But my exploits are, truly, my pride and joy, and that is why, dear reader, I feel a need to share them with you. I'm writing, in fact, to relate one recent encounter in particular. My firm does a lot of work in greece, and though I know nothing at all about the country, a colleague of mine had fallen sick, so I found myself charged with taking a client and his wife out to dinner. They hadn't really been to New York before - as a couple, anyway - and were just here for vacation, so I didn't really even need to talk shop. I was just in charge of taking them out for a night on the town. They seemed like an odd couple - odd, that is, until you realized that the husband was an heir to one of Greece's major shipping fortunes. He was pushing 40, quite a gut, with thinning hair. I'm not into making up names, and I obviously can't tell you his real name, so you should just use your imagination. He'd apparently been a serious tennis player in his youth, but it didn't look to me like he'd picked up a racket in at least a decade. His wife, by contrast, was a stunner - and guys, I don't mean "stunner" in the way you probably describe the slightly-more attractive housewife in your subdivision. She looked like a younger version of Raquel Welch, with big, smoldering eyes and a body that obviously saw the inside of a gym every day. As it turned out, she was 25, and she'd actually spent time in the States before, having spent four years at Smith College. She was wearing a tight black pantsuit, which was a little trashy, but hey - she was from Greece. You have to cut the Mediterranean types some slack in the fashion department. She told me she had ben a model, briefly, and now she was a television presenter on some major news program in greece (side note: is there even such a thing as a "major news program" in Greece? answer: you don't befome a high paid investment banker by asking questions like that.) I'd gotten us a dinner reservation at Asiate, in the Mandarin Oriental in the Time Warner Center. It's a decent place, on the thirty-something floor of the building, with a great view of Central Park. Not the world's most sophisticated cuisine, but if you're looking to impress someone with a classic new york restaurant, it's a pretty strong call. I wound up sitting directly across from the wife and instantly launched into my regular routine of transatlantic banker banter. Yes, that restaurant in london was great; no, I always stay at the George V in Paris; yes, it was a shame about that British bank's failure. And I got bored, quickly, even though my firm's client was obviously eating it up: wow, here I am in the big city, with some sophisticated investment banker acting like I'm really important! It made me sick. And frankly, his wife was the only thing keeping me awake. So as I was talking, I subtly nudged my lower leg against the inside of her leg. I figured that if she resisted, or moved away, I'd just go pick up someone at the bar once they left - and if not, I'd notch another client's wife to my bedpost. She played it cool. Didn't make eye contact, didn't even break the stream of her conversation, but I could feel her alter her posture so that she was widening her legs. I knew right then I was going to fuck her, but the conversation dragged on for a little while. Finally, her husband, in his terrible, thickly-accented English, excused himself to go to the restroom. and we were alone. I looked straight at the Greek goddess, and for the first time that night, took off my wide, eager to please grin. "You know I'm fucking you tonight." She looked like she was going to slap me - I don't think anyone had ever been that direct with her before - but I could see desire burning through her outrage. "Follow me when he returns," she said. and that was all - we didn't say another word for the next five minutes until he returned and slowly spread himself back into his chair, the lights of the city beckoning in the window beyond him. A few minutes more of meaningless conversation, and dessert was upon us. At that point, my client's raven haired wife made her move. "I'm sorry, I don't feel so well," she said to him. "Let me excuse myself." She kissed him passionately and made her way out the restaurant to the restroom. And, what do you know - about 30 seconds later, I remembered a quick conference call I just absolutely had to be on. My firm's client, my new best friend, looked disappointed, but he waved me off, saying something about how he remembered what it was like to be young and just making it in business. I walked out of the main dining area and handed $200 to the maitre'd. "Ramon, my friend - I believe the women's restroom is out of order. You're very sorry for the inconvenience, of course. And there's another restroom by the bar, right?" He looked at me - we've known each other for a few years - winked, and said, "Of course, sir. I am VERY sorry about that. I don't believe anyone's in there right now, but I'll put a sign up immediately." "Not at all, Ramon," I said, "not at all." And I went on my way. She was right outside the women's restroom, in the dark, plush corridor. We were the only ones there. I walked right up to her - she was about 5'6", and maybe 120 pounds - and her eyes flashed. She slapped me. I could tell this was going to be good, but I also knew I didn't have a lot of time to fuck this girl, so I grabbed her by her arm and muscled her into the women's restroom. I kissed her hard on the kips, and she hungrily answered my embrace. This chuck was hot and she clearly wanted it, but I wanted her to recognize my superiority, and she hadn't done that yet. Without even taking her clothes off, I pushed her down - and I had to push, because she wanted to fight - to her knees. Then we paused. She was eye to eye with my cock, the outline of which she could see through my suit. She pursed her lips and caught her breath. And then I let her have it. I quickly undid my belt and dropped my suit pants and my boxer briefs, which let my cock burst free, striking her hard in the face. She gasped - I'm sure she thought she was far enough away to avoid THAT - and stood up abruptly, which took me by surprise. I had been certain she was going to suck me off, and now I wasn't sure whether she was going to just walk out on me. So I decided I was going to get a little rough with this hot Greek bitch. I spun her around, so we were both facing the mirror in the restroom, and with one hand I roughly yanked down her tights. "No!" she said, out of breath, but at that point I didn't care - I was going to fuck this girl. And I knew how I was going to fuck her, too. "Tell me what you want, you little cunt," I breathed in her ear. "Please ... your cock ..." was all she whispered back. "You'll get it," I said. and with that, I rummaged in my bag - which I'd taken along with me for my "conference call" and found the lubricant I'd been looking for. I slathered some on my cock and then bent this guy's little wife over the sink, so her bare ass was sticking out. I felt her cunt, which was sopping wet, obviously anticipating the monster she'd seen moments earlier. and then I drilled her ass. She emitted something like a stifled scream when she realized what I was doing, and then she started bucking wildly to try to get me to stop. But I was too strong - I lift weights and I already had her pinned against the sink - and there was nothing she could do. I'd lubed us up enough that after a couple of thrusts, I was almost completely in, and then I started really fucking my latest wife. Long, deep strokes in and out of her asshole - and guys, I'm not kidding about the nine inches, so that is one powerful ass-reaming she was getting. Soon she stopped fighting and she started giving these little quick breaths each time I penetrated her. Her eyes weren't even wild now - they were glassy, and as I went on, she began to lose it so much that her pupils started rolling back into her head, so I could mostly only see the whites of her eyes. If I were making this up, I'd tell you that I brought this girl to total orgasm, over and over again. But the truth is, I didn't give a damn whether she was enjoying herself or not - I wanted to come and gum up this bitch's ass more than anything in the world. so that is exactly what I did. We couldn't have been at it for more than a minute or so before I felt myself coming, shooting loads up sperm deep into that Greek beauty's shit tunnel. Looking back, I doubt she'd ever been treated like another man's cum dump ever before in her life - a beautiful, wealthy, western educated offspring of the Greek aristocracy is used to a minimum standard of decency, and I - the quintessential big American - had just crushed it for her. my erection disspiating, I pulled out of her, which prompted another gasp, and I looked with some pride on the way her cute little asshole had just been distended by my cock. While she panted for breath, still bent over, I watched the mixture of shit and cum drip out of her. "Clean yourself up, you whore. and don't slap me again," I said, buckling up my pants. We looked at each other in the mirror, and I liked what I saw in her eyes. Defeat. I walked out of the restroom and hurried back to the table. no more than 10 minutes had elapsed, in fact, probably only a little more than five. I apologized for my rudeness, and my fat Greek client smiled stupidly and waved it off. We went back to discussing the markets, and his wife reappeared after a little while. She looked a little wobbly as she walked over to us, and I noted with some satisfaction that she was pale and still hadn't caught her breath. I asked for the check and we left. This would have been a more exotic, erotic, story if I'd been making it up, guys. But that's not what I do. This is my life, and I just need an outlet to share it with somebody. if you want to know more, email me. sohocyrano@yahoo.com 4734 1.31/512345

No comments:

Post a Comment