**Continued from an earlier post:** [**https://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/ry9qe8/poolside_at_the_flamingo_mf/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3**](https://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/ry9qe8/poolside_at_the_flamingo_mf/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3)
Poolside at the Flamingo
I took a few deep breaths and, for a quicker deflation of my hard-on, watched a few moments as the older couple lotioned each other up. Once my dick had returned to a manageable size, I curled a finger inside my pant-leg and yanked the netting forward to assist with containment.
I rose to my feet. “Paper?” I asked the old man.
“Sure,” he replied with a shrug.
I handed it over on my way out, entered the hotel, and caught the elevator just around the corner. I punched the button for the third floor and on the ride up, batted my dick around to get it growing again. The bell chimed, the doors opened, and I walked three-legged down the hall to Room 319.
After two quick knocks, the door flung wide open, and without a word, the bikini-clad girl reached out her hand, took hold of the front waistband of my suit, and pulled forcefully toward her. Her eagerness brought me up against her body…hard. So much so that I winced a bit, my dick making awkward and rough contact with her hip bone.
“Did I hurt you?” she asked.
“No…” I said, still recovering.
“Do you want me to?”
I raised an eyebrow and was about to answer in the affirmative, when she grabbed my face with both hands and started kissing. Fast and furious. Sloppy, but in a good way—sharp breaths in and out punctuating the action as our hearts raced.
In a tangled two-step, we half-laid-half-fell onto the bed.
She grabbed fistfuls of my hair, and I felt her freshly-manicured nails digging into my scalp.
I was on top, but she was pulling and squeezing me further down into her and the bed, until I simply wouldn’t go anymore.
Considerably shorter than me, she was able, without missing a beat, to raise her legs up and slide her feet into the front of my shorts. She felt around with her toes until striking gold, then took my pulsing cock between her right big toe and second toe and squeezed and curled and tugged, until eliciting the “Holy-fucking-God” brand of moan she was after.
Once she’d finished teasing, she relinquished, perching the pads of both feet on the elastic waistband and pushing off like she was turning a lap in the pool. The shorts flew to my ankles, and somehow, in one swift motion, I slipped magically inside her.
Warmth, wetness…tightening and untightening…enveloping my cock, my brain, my whole world. The ecstasy of it all caused me to black out momentarily. I blinked my eyes to come to and realized it was just her swimsuit top—flung from her chest and landing rather comically on my head, so that it hung down and covered my eyes. I ripped it off and took in the sight of her weighty chest.
Her nipples looked to have grown twice the size since we were poolside. I wrapped my mouth as far as it would go around her left boob—not very far—and inhaled, wanting to drink in every inch of its sweaty circumference. I bit down lightly, then pulled up to where I held her nipple between my teeth and she moaned, “Fuck me.”
I’d been so completely wrapped up in her tits that I’d forgotten my cock was even in her pussy. Basking in her top half, the pumping had slowed to a stop.
“Fuck me, fuck me,” she urged.
I was so overwhelmed by what I was looking at, I couldn’t help but disobey. I plucked my cock from her lips and, still straddling her, shimmied forward. I stopped at her tits and slid myself right down the middle.
“Okay, this works, too,” she said happily. She took tits in hand and pushed, squeezed them together so hard they looked as if they might pop.
My dick was suffocated between them, strangled into its extra-shiny and taut, pre-splatter form.
“But, pussy next,” she said in a no-nonsense tone.
“Fuck yeah,” I said, as I struggled to push my cock through the narrow boob-tunnel to the daylight on the other side. I thrust hard and the titty-floodgates opened up just enough. I slid on through and booped her on the chin with my cock-head. As I drew back, a bead of pre-cum latched onto her and left a string of the sticky liquid trailing.
She touched her finger to it and pushed it up into her mouth, cooing, then swallowing.
Having released the hold on her tits, I was able to pump freely. Back and forth I went, the sweat and pre-cum pooling in the crevice of her chest to create the necessary lubricant. With each pound, her boobs shook and vibrated in such a way that I had to fight hard against cumming. Mind over fucking matter. I wasn’t ready to let the sight go.
“Save it for the pussy,” she ordered.
“There’ll be plenty,” I assured her, between breaths.
“And I want some in my ass, too,” she said.
Game over. I simply couldn’t overcome the fucking eargasm the words provided, and I started spraying everywhere.
She stuck out her tongue and pointed.
I leaned forward and obliged, squeezing a considerable amount inside, but saving some to spread around her areolas. Once I’d finished painting her tits, I rolled over onto the bed, exhausted.
“I don’t think so,” she said. “My turn.”
I looked down at my cock. “Give it a minute?”
“Nuh-uh,” she said, grabbing the shaft and tugging. She flung it roughly down, then slapped playfully a couple times.
That did the trick. I mounted her again, and fifteen minutes later, put a Round Two in her. As requested, I saved a little for the backside.
Afterward, the two of us lay recovering on the moist white bedsheets. Eventually, she reached for her phone and swore when she saw the time. “Gotta get dressed.”
“Why?” I said with a sly smile that said I didn’t want her to.
“Work.”
“Business trip?”
She laughed. “I work here.”
“The hotel?”
“Uh-huh.” She nodded toward the window. “Manage the pool bar.”
“No shit. What’s with the room then?”
“Perk of the job. You gonna let me buy you a drink tonight?” she said with a flirty smile.
“Tonight…” I muttered, my mind edging back toward reality and my evening plans: some corporate bullshit my office had sent me to broker over dinner in the city.
“How about drinks in my room after work?” I said.
She reached over, grabbed a fistful of cock and squeezed. “I get off at eleven,” she said, drawing her hand back slowly and letting her fingernail scratch its way down. “And again at eleven-thirty.”
[Erotica zine](https://trashsandwich.wordpress.com) (read free or submit!)
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/s27912/poolside_at_the_flamingo_conclusion_mf