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(X-rated) February 22, 2024:
I joined Angus in the lounge area of his house while he mostly pretended to work. Instead, he was geeking out on trail videos, as was I. It was undeniable his heart was fully into life on trail. His face would light up, he was in full focus mode watching the hikers, but the second his eyes moved back to the screen on his laptop, he appeared grim. He would especially become annoyed when someone called him with work related questions. It showed through the tone of his voice that he had zero passion dealing with that stuff.
He worked in the IT department.
“If anythin’,” he started, “it’s more of a nuisance to mah day. The best thing about mah job is nobody else does what I do or knows what I do. They’ll give me a task and I’ll know it’s a fifteen minute task, but I’ll tell ‘em I can get it done in two days and they’ll be so stoked when I deliva it.”
In about a year, Angus was setting off to America to get his Triple Crown. He was already in the process of selling all of his assets! I was so stoked for him to make such a big move. To me, that’s what I considered to be an ultimate badass. There were so many people out there that claimed they would take such a courageous leap, but it was very rare when someone actually went through with it.
Then, he excitedly brought out his new pack to show me that he would be bringing on his upcoming adventure. He started going over all of the different compartments—the zippers, pockets, material and altogether, showed off how little his base weight was. I laughed at myself for how interested I was in his gear. Truly, a gear geek at heart.
Later in the day I felt I really needed to get fucked so I decided to go ahead and meet up with the hot musician. I confessed to Brett all of the fantasies I was having about him and he was extremely thrown off guard, but didn’t have an issue taking care of my needs.
He picked me up at the corner of the street and I hopped into his van. I struggled making eye contact with him, appearing so shy after all of the dirty things I didn’t say to his face.
“Whassup smoke show,” he said as he checked me out.
God, he was even as cocky as my exes.
Then he grabbed my face and started french kissing me. Mmm, I was right—he kissed just like me. Our lips were absolutely meant for each other. He was slow and sensual yet there was so much confidence behind his movements. Just the way he grounded my raging sexual energy with his touch made me mad—gave me insight he would fuck me good. He tasted of vodka or some sort of hard liquor, probably drank some to calm his nerves around me—wouldn’t be the first time a guy has done that.
“You’re such a sweetheart,” he said as he pulled his lips away from mine.
“I prefer being called a cunt,” I said.
“You’ll get what you’re given,” he dictated then pulled into the main road.
He said he had to pick up some of his merchandise from his friend’s house then we could go on a little cruise. I asked him how his sound check went. I didn’t really care, I just wanted to hear him talk so I could get off on his accent. Didn’t take long. He knew I had been listening to his song on repeat, cumming over and over from it so one could only imagine how I felt when I heard him speak again.
My face flushed, my eyes were filled with predatory lust, unable to hide how much I wanted him. I didn’t know what got into me but I had a complete shift in the way I viewed him. He looked over at me in disbelief, couldn’t understand how I would want to fuck a stranger on command so quickly. Honestly, he looked kind of trashy yet at the same time had style—classy hippie vibes, yet retro, that of a musician. I hated that he turned me on.
Ugh, what was I thinking?
My pussy truly had a mind of her own.
“How do ya pronounce your given name?” he asked.
“Goda,” I said using my Lithuanian dialect paired with my most feminine voice.
“Fuuuck,” he groaned, “that’s way hotta than Freyja. Goda sounds so dominant, Freyja just sounds slutty.”
Little does he know I’m a complete slut.
I groped at my inner thighs. “Mmm,” I moaned as if I was getting penetrated. “Your accent just does something to my pussy.”
He greeted me with silence, but his eyes read ‘holy shit, this girl really wants to fuck.’
“Can I blow you?” I asked impatiently.
“Fock yeah!” he said.
I went to unbuckle his jeans.
“Wait, like right now?” he asked. “In the middle of the day? Like fock, I had it done on a motorway but neva drivin’ through town in the middle of rush hour.”
I ignored his sense of worry and started touching his inner thigh, then tightly cupped his heated balls in my hand. They felt inviting through the thick layer of his jeans.
“Yeah go for it,” he said. His head tilted back in pleasure as he tried to concentrate on driving. “Fock, I love how forward ya are.”
I finished unbuttoning him while he continued to laugh in amazement of how much I wanted it. I couldn’t understand it, either. It was as if I was under some sort of spell from the sound of his voice and the scent of his skin.
I pulled his rod out. He was rock hard, my favorite size, and to top it off—uncircumcised. How could it get any better? I bathed his cock with slobber while he grew impressed by how I could even make my mouth that wet.
“I can’t help it,” I said as I wiped some off my lips. “It’s cause of the way you taste.”
“I’m gettin’ us a hotel room for the night so I can fock you all night,” he said, “then I’ll take ya to mah concert and fock ya afta the show, too.”
“No,” I said as I lifted my face away from his crotch.
“What? Why? You just want me to fock you and drop you back off?”
“Yes,” I said, “that sounds perfect. My friend is making me steak.”
“Damn,” he said, “I really wanted to have ya all night, but okay, I just hafta pick up my merch then first. It’ll be quick.”
God, his pre-cum was to die for.
“Wait, are ya focking this dude back home?” he asked, “are ya juggling dicks right now?”
Ha, I wish. It was hard to tell if Angus was even into me that way.
“No,” I said, with an air of sadness tracing my tone.
I continued sucking him off, adding pressure with my tongue. I started moaning, begging through the passion of my lips moving up and down his shaft to be fucked by his virile cock. I was so antsy and impatient. I didn’t know why my pussy wanted him so bad but I was approaching the state of aggression.
“How long are you gonna take?” I whined.
“To cum?!” he asked.
“No, ha ha! To pick up your merch.”
“Oh! That’ll be quick. Only ten minutes.”
I looked at him with pleading eyes.
“You wanna get focked first, don’t ya?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said, loving that he could read me.
“Okay we can do that,” he said.
I loved when I got what I wanted. He made a sharp right turn then drove us up a hill that used to have a lookout point before some people bought property there. I found it wild that he parked directly in front of their house. Regardless, it didn’t stop me from doing my job of sucking him off.
He pulled me off his cock then told me to get in the back and get ready for him. I don’t think he had any idea how ready I was. My inner thighs were wet. I did as he said and jumped on his mattress, getting on all fours as I stared at him struggling to take his shoes off. He glanced back at me and I was sure I came off as a wild animal about to fucking destroy him. He looked at me as though terrified to approach me. He better be.
I was waiting at the foot of the bed so he could lay down on his back. I wanted to grab every part of his body—bite him, tear him to shreds. He hopped in back and I crawled to his lips, letting him stick his tongue down my throat. He started biting my neck and I pulled away—didn’t want him to get me in trouble.
Then, I mounted him and wrapped my fingers around his neck. His pupils enlarged. My pussy was in heat underneath his throbbing beast—virile and ready for me. Immediately, he shoved himself in and went straight to pounding me. I loved when a guy was so fast at putting it in, doing it before I had time to think straight. I quickly became drunk off him, my eyes rolling back as I bounced up and down his rod.
“Slow down,” he said, “don’t make me cum. I don’t wanna cum yet.”
He could barely look at my face or my naked body, continuously begging for me to ease it down. I studied his face under mine, enjoying him under such pressure, trying so hard to think of anything other than how hot I was or how tight my pussy felt. I loved that he was losing control beneath me.
Instead, I broke his command and sped it up. He continuously kept taking himself out, then out of aggression flipped me onto my stomach and pressed his hand against my lower back as he shoved himself back in. I arched against his hand, urging him on, feeling my pussy grow wetter by each thrust. He knew the right angles to make me squirt on his cock. I left a trail of drenched juices on his sheets, pulling myself forward by grasping at the mattress, the pleasure feeling too overwhelming.
The way I squirmed and tried to escape from his grip turned him on even further. He flipped me back upright to ride him again then choked me so hard that I was only a couple seconds away from passing out. He quickly released the grip to which I grabbed his hand and made him grip harder, simultaneously pounding me with his cock.
“Give it to me,” I begged as I sat all the way down on it.
He let out a deep moan then locked eyes with me as he started to release his cum inside of me. Feeding off his dilated eyes and groans of obsession, I stored him in my memory.
He stayed rock hard as if he didn’t climax, but my pussy was full of his cum… dripping out of me. I scooped some out and ate it. Then, I sucked on his cock, feeling his body twitch and his veins throb in my mouth. He grasped at the sheets and groaned. I looked up at him longingly.
“You wanna go again?” he asked, reading my eyes correctly.
I lit up. “Yes!”
“Keep sucking,” he demanded. I listened to him moan for me as he thrusted his hips into my face. “I wanna cum for you again.”
“Mm,” I moaned, “on my face?”
“Yes,” he said as he pulled me up by my hair.
He flipped me onto my back, placed my legs over his shoulders while the balls of my feet pressed into the roof of his van. He got in deep, making me squirt on the first thrust then spread my legs open as he watched himself fucking me. My juices squeezed and splattered from around his cock from the pressure of him staying inside of me.
“Fuck!” I cried, trying to push him off. The pleasure was piercing. I dug my nails into his skin and pulled him in. “Yeah I love when you fuck me like that.” My voice deepened as I fully gave in. “God I love taking your cock.”
My head fell back on the center console, unable to face reality anymore. I looked back up at him with raging heat in my body. His sweat dripped in my mouth, I stuck my tongue out to catch it. Thank God I would never see this guy again because he was almost as addictive as Voodoo.
I loved the way he kept calling me “babe” in his NZ accent while simultaneously choking me out. How voice alone could make me cum. He started stimulating my clit with his fingers, then his cock grew extra thick in my pussy, so I changed my mind about him cumming on my face.
“Fill me up,” I said instead.
“I was gonna do it anyways,” he said with a wink.
Naughty, naughty. I pushed my hips closer towards him, following his rhythm. He watched the penetration while I watched the way he convulsed from my pussy contracting over his cock. He began losing his rhythm as he started pulsating inside of me, filling me up fully a second time. I didn’t tell him I wasn’t on birth control as to not freak him out like I did the other guy.
Out of breath, he fell onto his back.
“I’ve neva focked a squirta,” he said, “I love how equally slick and wet your pussy and mouth feel ova mah cock.”
He told me he jerked off so hard when he got home yesterday after feeling the heavy sexual energy I was giving off in the car. Apparently, he blew the biggest load. I was sad he didn’t give me any.
“You have a whole hitchhikin’ persona, ya know that?” he asked.
Pulling his leg, I asked, “Do I?”
“Yeah,” he said, “Ya wear your ball cap hat and have your ski poles and this sweet smile on your face. I turned around to pick ya up because when I looked back in mah mirror, you sat back down on your bag as if you’ve been there for a while.”
“I know,” I said, “that’s how I get them.”
“I knew it!” he said. “Well, regardless, you looked innocent and in need of a ride and I was down to talk to someone for five hours.”
“I’m super glad you picked me up,” I said flirtatiously.
“Same, babes. You were the first person I eva picked up hitchhikin’,” he said.
“Oh god,” I said, “it’s most likely not going to be the same experience with a future hitchhiker.”
“Doubt it,” he said. “I wanted to make a move on ya but I didn’t want to be that creepy guy who hit on ya while you were just in need of a ride.”
I really respected that. It brought a guy’s chances of something happening between us way higher up. Initially I wasn’t really thinking of him in that way and if he would’ve made a move on me before I felt ready I probably would’ve been turned off from ever letting him in. I liked when men let me build up the sexual energy at my own pace and allowed me to move when I sensed I was ready. I was like a cat—coming to people when I wanted to be touched.
We sat back in the front seat, drenched in each others sweat and smelling of sex—my favorite. Next thing, he’s inviting me to go on tour with him through Europe, all paid trip.
“If I go to Europe can I blow you whenever and wherever?” I asked.
He started laughing. “I don’t want to pay for you to blow me,” he said.
“I know,” I said, “I would just do it for fun.”
He looked at me completely thrown off guard. “Were you looking at my bulge yesterday?” he asked. “I caught ya starin’ down there for a while.”
“Oh yeah,” I admitted as I bit the tip of my pinky. “Several times.”
He really wanted me to come out to his concert tonight and watch him play but I didn’t really want to because he played at 9:45 and I liked to be in bed by 9. Sleep was more enjoyable than concerts to me.
“I’ll fock you backstage,” he said.
“I’d rather be fucked on stage,” I said.
The idea of getting filmed/watched, even possibly kicked out and being heavily looked down upon was what turned me on the most.
He dropped me back off at the corner street then I walked back to the house. God, I felt so shitty after the fact. The moment I was completely alone again, I felt a sickening feeling of disgust with myself. It seemed to be a recurring pattern to feel shame when I felt I couldn’t control my behavior, even more so when I came back to Angus cooking some fine cuisine food for us.
I sat on the stool in the kitchen and watched him make his famous steak sauce. I promised not to hand out the recipe to anyone. Then I asked him about the earthquakes in CC and if they were dangerous. I didn’t live in a place that had them often so I was curious.
“Oh yeah,” he said, “they are extremely dangerous and people often die.”
He found he still experienced trauma just from the feeling of a truck driving on a road and being able to feel the rattling underneath him.
“Ah,” I said, “like walking over pelorous bridge.”
“Yes exactly,” he said.
He explained there was even a thing called the aftershock where there would be ripples of the earthquake sometimes a year after the worst part occurred.