Previous Part: Being a slut in an onsite assignment
Hello readers, really flattered by the amazing response I received in the first part. It motivated me to share the experiences that unfolded after the first day. This story is based on my real experience from my onsite assignment from May last year.
I awake to a flood of sunlight streaming through the window. A sense of contentment weighed pleasantly on my body. But as reality comes rushing back, I remember the passionate tryst I shared with Faizal. I felt a twinge of guilt for betraying my boyfriend’s trust.
Still, the memory of Faizal’s touch and the intensity of our encounter left me feeling exhilarated and craving more. As I make my way to the shower, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I notice the love bites that adorn my breasts and body.
I trace my fingers along the marks. I remember how Faizal’s hands and mouth had left their passionate imprint. My hands move lower. I find myself reliving the sensations of his tongue on my most intimate folds. I step under the warm spray of the shower.
I let my fingers take over where Faizal left off, stoking the fire that still burns within me. My fingers dance across my sensitive skin. I imagine it’s Faizal touching me, kissing me, making me his. My breath quickens as I dip my hand lower, my fingers finding my centre.
I moaned as I relived the pleasure of his tongue on my clitoris. His fingers probed my core. It doesn’t take long for my body to respond. I surrender to a powerful orgasm. My mind flooded with images of Faizal and the forbidden fruit I had tasted.
The day feels like an eternity. I struggle to focus on work while my mind wanders back to the previous night’s events. I can still feel Faizal’s hands on my body. His lips on mine, and the searing connection between us. Unable to concentrate, I step out into the corridor and call Faizal.
My voice was thick with desire. I ask him to meet me again. The anticipation builds as I tell my boss I need to work from home for the rest of the day. The bus ride home is electric, my body thrumming with anticipation. I can’t wait to be alone with Faizal, to feel his touch, to taste him once more.
I let myself into my apartment. I feel a rush of excitement and quickly change into something more comfortable, or rather, something less so. I remove my bra and panties. I donned only a thin top and shorts that hugged my thighs and showcased my ample curves.
The doorbell rings, and my heart skips a beat. Faizal is here, and the adventure begins. I open the door, and his gaze rakes over me with desire. I can see the appreciation in his eyes, and a mischievous smile plays on my lips.
“Like what you see?” I tease, giving him a light smack on the arm. “Just taking in the view,” he replies, his voice thick with want. I take a step forward, my eyes daring him to act on his desire. Slowly, I lift my top, exposing the swells of my breasts, inviting him to take what he wants.
Faizal steps closer, his eyes burning with intensity. He places his hands on my bare stomach, sending shivers down my spine. But before he can pull me close, I drop my top back into place and whisper, “Not so fast, babe,” and retreat into the bedroom, relishing the chase.
Faizal is quick to follow. Within moments, he has me pinned to the bed, my hands trapped above my head. His lips crush mine in a fierce kiss. I surrender to the torrent of desire that consumes us both. His mouth devours mine, his hands roaming my body, igniting a fire in my veins.
I return his kiss with equal fervour, my body arching into his touch. Faizal’s hands slip under my top. With a quick motion, he lifts it over my head, leaving me bare before him. My breasts heave with each passionate breath, and Faizal wastes no time in claiming them.
His mouth surrounds a peaked nipple, his tongue swirling and teasing until I’m squirming beneath him. His hands hold and knead my breasts. His fingertips send electric shocks straight to my core. I moan into his mouth, my hands twisting in his hair, urging him on.
He releases my hands. I tangle my fingers in his hair, holding him close as our tongues dance. Faizal’s hand traces a path down my body. Flicking open the button on my shorts before slipping them over my hips, baring me completely. I feel no shame, only a fierce desire as I return his intense gaze.
“Role reversal, huh?” I breathe, my voice laced with anticipation. Faizal’s eyes smoulder as he replies, “All’s fair when it comes to pleasure, babe.” He settles himself between my thighs, his body covering mine. Our lips find each other once more in a passionate embrace.
Faizal’s hands roam my body, cupping my breasts. Tweaking my sensitive nipples, sending sparks of pleasure coursing through me. I wrap my legs around his waist, urging him closer, needing to feel him against me. Faizal’s lips trail downward.
They leave a scorching path along my neck, pausing to suckle at the sensitive spot that makes me squirm. His tongue dips into the hollow of my throat, eliciting a moan. Then, he continues his descent, planting kisses along my collarbone.
Pausing to lavish attention on the pulse point that flutters wildly beneath his mouth. His fingers find my centre, stoking the flame that burns within me. I spread my legs wider, granting him full access. He obliges, dipping his head to taste me.
His tongue teases my clitoris, flicking and circling until my hips buck off the bed. Faizal chuckles against my sensitive flesh. Taking his time to explore, taste, and torment me with expert precision. My hands tangle in his hair, guiding him, urging him on as I writhe beneath him.
Faizal’s tongue delves deeper, penetrating me. His fingers joined in the dance, stretching and stroking me from the inside. My breath comes in sharp gasps as the coil of pleasure within me tightens, ready to snap and throw me into oblivion.
And then, with one last stroke of his magical tongue, I shatter. My body convulsed with the force of my release. Faizal doesn’t stop, continuing to lavish attention on my sensitive flesh. Drawing out my pleasure until I’m sobbing with ecstasy.
Finally, he lifts his head, a satisfied smile on his lips. He lifts me into his arms, carrying me to the mirror. My heart pounds with anticipation as I understand his intentions. He positions me in front of the mirror. My hands braced against the cool glass, and my legs spread wantonly.
In the reflection, I see myself as wild and wanton. My breasts were heaving, marked with the evidence of his passion. I see Faizal’s hands on my hips, his hardness prodding at my entrance, and I push back, eager for more. With one swift thrust, Faizal enters me, filling me.
I gasp at the sensation, watching in the mirror as he claims my body. My breasts swayed with each powerful stroke. I feel his length stretching me, his hips slamming against mine. The sound of our passion fills the room. My eyes lock with his in the mirror.
I see the same desperate need reflected in me. Faizal’s hands grip my hips, pulling me onto him as he thrusts deeper. The feeling of being so full sends me careening toward the edge once more. Faizal’s breath is hot against my neck as he whispers, “Cum for me, babe.”
And I do, my body trembling as a powerful orgasm washes over me. Faizal doesn’t slow down, continuing to plunge into me with relentless force. I feel his stamina, his endurance. I marvel at the pleasure he can elicit from my body. I come down from my climax.
Faizal quickens his pace, driving me toward another peak. I’m overwhelmed by the intensity, the sheer force of our passion. My body responds to his, moving in perfect harmony, each thrust sparking a new flame. I can feel Faizal’s veins throbbing against my sensitive walls. I know he’s close.
With a final, powerful thrust, he surrenders, his release pouring into me, his breath hot against my neck. In the aftermath of our passion, I realize with a jolt that we’ve just made love without any protection. But instead of fear, I feel a rush of excitement and a deep connection to Faizal.
I turn in his arms, my breasts pressed against his chest. I kiss him deeply, tasting myself on his lips. He holds me close, his heart pounding against mine. We stay like that for what feels like an eternity, content and sated. Eventually, we stir, Faizal’s head resting on my breasts as we bask in the afterglow.
I run my fingers through his hair, relishing the intimacy of the moment. We had shared something intense and passionate, something that transcended words. Reluctantly, we part. I watch as Faizal gets dressed, my eyes drinking at the sight of his muscular body.
I feel a twinge of desire as I imagine his hands on me once more, but I know we can’t indulge forever. With a final kiss, he promises to see me soon. I’m left feeling content and eager for our next encounter.
As I clean myself up and prepare for bed, I reflect on the day’s events. The raw, passionate sex with Faizal had stirred something within me—a deep, primal need that I couldn’t deny. I felt no regret for cheating on my boyfriend. Instead, I felt liberated and empowered, having discovered a new depth to my desires.
With a satisfied sigh, I snuggle into my bed. My mind was already spinning tales of our next adventure. The prospect of exploring the depths of my sexuality with Faizal fills me with anticipation and a sense of self-discovery. I drift off to sleep.
Tomorrow, I will wake up renewed, excited to continue this erotic journey, no matter where it takes me.
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