Professional Excellence Ch. 01

'They're not.'

He made a grab for my tits. I stepped back just in time.

'At ease soldier. I don't want to get the dress dirty. It's new.'

I held him at bay with a palm on his chest. He looked down at his paint-spattered overalls and began wiping his hands against his legs.

'I don't think that's going to help. Unzip me and get those things off.'

I turned my back on him and felt him tug the zipper down. The dress was low cut at the back as well so his fingers stroked my spine only six inches or so above the small of my back. I snaked myself against his hand and heard him laugh as I loosened the straps over my shoulders, stepped out of the small garment and tossed it onto the chair we kept next to the telephone table in the hall. I looked over my shoulder as he shed his overalls. The cock I had admired was now standing high, sticking out of the flies of his boxers. I reached back my hand to grip him.

This was real. I had a real live penis in my hand in my own hallway, belonging to a man whose name, I just then realised, I didn't know. Monica made a brief reappearance, my stomach involuntarily heaved and my mouth filled with the taste of bile. Then the adrenalin kicked in. It felt good, I was excited, suddenly aware that the damp panties were now wet. My breathing quickened as I stroked him, not looking back. His skin was soft and I could feel the veins and ridges bulge and distort as I gently massaged his length.

My unnamed guest may have been slow in the conversation department, but he was no slouch when it came to fucking. I stepped towards the stairs, still holding him gently, leading the way. I wanted to take him to my room; he had other ideas.

I got no further than the third step before he could control himself no longer. His hands went round me and both my tits were being squeezed, hard, in rough, large hands. His fingers frantically sought out my nipples, not a difficult job, they had been stretching the thin gauze of the bra almost from the moment I put it on. Target located he pinched and rolled them with a strength I had not experienced at least since I was an eager teenager in the back of parked cars. I was enthused by the tensing in my gut and the warm feeling that I always got when my path to orgasm was opened. I pushed my boobs more firmly against his hands.

'What a pair of Bristols. You're gagging for it aren't you?'

Now he got the message. He pushed his hips against my arse and the momentum caused us to topple against the stairs. I had to release him to quickly move my hands in front of me to cushion the fall. I felt him slide over me leaving a sticky trail of pre-cum.

He pulled at the top of the cups and I tumbled free feeling the soft pile of the carpet graze the tips of my nipples as my tits fell in front of me. I pushed back against him feeling his hardness in the cleft between my buttocks.

'Fuck me.'

He pulled back and slapped my bottom hard. The shock of the sharp blow went straight to my clit, my cry was hoarse.

'You like that do you?'

He slapped me again, this time on the other cheek. His hands were bigger than Susan's and calloused, but the memory of my orgasm as I was stretched across two drunk men in the hotel came flooding back. I wiggled my arse hoping for more. Instead the next spasm of pain came from my left nipple. It felt like he had grabbed it in hot pincers as he ground it between a finger and thumb. His other hand grabbed as much of my right breast as he could and squeezed hard. My scream was genuine. He was hurting me.

'That's right, scream you tart.'

I felt another sharp blow on my bum. I wasn't sure whether I liked that more, or was just feeling relief that he had released my boobs. I threw my head back and an involuntary groan escaped me. I was grinding backwards as hard as I could. His cock was riding easily over the smooth material of my knickers and I could feel his juices drying against my back. He grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled. I panted and sobbed.

'Stick your hard, fat prick in me. I want you now, you bastard.'

'Watch your lip, whore.'

I groaned as he abused me and then let out a scream as he clamped my right nipple adding a sharp twist to his previous torture. I felt my eyes water. My pussy was demanding attention. I was wet, I could feel it, and my arm on the step beneath me were acting independently, pushing my arse against his groin. As I slipped my hand under myself to massage my overheated clitoris, a small rational corner of my brain told me I needed to take control.

I had grown to maturity with boys obsessed with my breasts; if I hadn't developed the ability to direct them further south, as it were, I'd never have got laid. This man, I still didn't know his name, was just playing true to type. And this was also not the time to explore further the jolts of pleasure which wracked my body as he hurt me.

'My husband will kill you if he catches you.'

The threat had no immediate effect, he continued to maul at my tits with one hand and force me back against his cock by yanking my hair with the other. I could hear him grunting with each assault. Then he suddenly stopped and pulled off me. I used the moment to ease some of the cramps which were developing from being forced into unusual positions on the stairs and took a glance over my shoulder at what he was doing. He was untangling his boxer shorts from the work boots he still had on.

'Keep your arse up, you slapper. I'm going to shag you senseless.'

I waved the condom at him and did as I was told. There was some huffing and puffing behind me and muttered curses at the open prophylactic and then I felt the weight of his thighs against my buttocks. It was followed seconds later by the sensation of a stiff dick sliding up the back of my panties and his balls hitting my bum crack. More cursing. I had thought earlier he was a numbskull: downgrade that to moron. I slid my hand under my stomach and, bypassing my pussy this time, managed to drag aside the gusset of my panties as he took a second stab.

It was worth the effort. I felt myself being stretched as the thick cock slid into me. There was a sucking noise at the same time; I was as wet as I thought I was. He began rutting immediately. I didn't care. I felt the air being forced out of my lungs with his first thrust. I just managed to lift my chin over the lip of the stair as my head was pushed forwards. It was immediately yanked back as he took hold of my hair again.

I was only seconds away from an orgasm anyway. The naked frolicking had been a turn on, his arrival had notched it up another groove or two and the smacking, hair-pulling and abuse had almost pushed me over the top already. I rammed my arse against him with as much force as I could muster. I don't know whether he took that as a challenge or a threat. But I felt my bottom sting as he cracked me one with his open palm.

'Fuck you, Jennifer, and fuck that fucking bitch of a sister of yours.'

His voice was harsh and his words fragmented as he continued to force himself on me with all the strength he had. I gave back as good as I was getting. My vagina was spasming as it gripped and released him. I could feel myself getting sweaty all over as we strained against each other. This was the same frantic pace as Otto had managed whilst Dieter titty-fucked me, but my mystery guest was much better endowed. And I didn't have to perform.

I've always been a bit of a screamer. My mum found out I'd lost my virginity when a neighbour complained about the noise after I'd played truant one summer afternoon to enjoy some bed-time with my then boyfriend. Howard had done his best to suppress it, and to a certain extent he had succeeded. But at The Royal, and now on my own staircase, I was my own woman.

'Shit, fuck, bugger, bollocks.'

I've always liked swear words, but rarely had the courage to use them in public. My next climax was nearing and my words broke into incoherence as I struggled with him. I was covered in sweat and beginning to catch the strong aroma of my musk. I heard myself scream as I orgasmed and felt another smack on my buttocks for my pains. My co-conspirator was beginning to flag. Credit where credit was due though, he had kept up a sterling pace for several minutes and I had come twice. All that whilst keeping up a constant stream of abuse against Jennifer and someone called Amber. Had I liked him I might have encouraged him to take a breather. As I didn't, I pushed my hand further between my legs and grabbed his balls.

'Come in me. Let me feel your seed pumping into my hot pussy.'

I hadn't watched a porn movie since I was in my early twenties. But the half-recalled dialogue and my gentle massaging of his testicles did the trick. If his normal thrusts had been strong, his orgasm was brutal. He grabbed my hips and shoved into me three times with enough force to knock my head against the carpeted riser. He said fuck after the first one, paused then the c-word as he gushed again, and finally 'take that you fucking whore'. I felt the energy drain from his limbs, but I wasn't going for an encore anyway.

He pulled out of me almost immediately and I gave myself a moment's respite as I lay on the stairs panting. Mentally, I cursed myself out for being such an idiot in accepting a decade without sex. Then practicalities took over.

'Give me that.'

I held out my hand to my guest who looked as if he was about to drop the filled condom onto the floor. It was still warm and surprisingly full as if flopped into my palm like a half-set jelly. I stood and watched as he hopped and jigged into his pants and then his overalls. The whole thing would have been much more easily accomplished if he'd sat on the stairs or the hallway chair to do it. When my son Nigel was just starting to learn to dress himself he had been more adept. Probably had more brains as well.

'Suppose I'd better be going.'

'Yes.'

He leaned towards me as if he was going to kiss me. No way. I dodged sideways and moved towards the door.

'I might put in a cheap bid on the work over the road so we can do that again.'

He was grinning. I wasn't.

'Don't do that. I don't mind the odd freebie when I'm feeling horny, but normally I'd charge two hundred for the fuck and another two hundred for the physicals. You'd need all the spare cash you can get together.'

I'm not sure where that came from, except that I was absolutely certain I didn't want a repeat performance any time soon. I kept my face expressionless as he stared at me. I opened the door and he shuffled out.

'See you then. What's your name, by the way?'

I ignored that.

'Bye.'

I had half-closed the door and could hear him descend the three steps and crunch onto the gravel path, when I had an afterthought. I called after him and he turned with an expectant smile just as he was putting a fresh cigarette to his lips.

'Give my regards to Jennifer.'