War Paint

I don’t know why this song suddenly came to me as I stepped out of the shower and wrapped myself in one of the big fluffy hotel towels. I sprayed on a little 4711 and settled down to wait for Steph.

“War paint war paint you don’t need war paint”

I knew that Steph would be made up immaculately, she always was, foundation, blush, mascara that picked out each lash individually, the glistening red of her lipstick countered perfectly against her lips. War paint war paint and it brought me to surrender every time.

I looked at myself in the mirror. I had chosen a biker jacket to go with jeans and boots. I had never quite dressed this was before but this was to be the last time. And the first. My husband had found out and I had made my choice. Steve was a great lover but I had never quite been able to see him as a long term partner. I was going to have to tell him.

I opened the door. She came inside. I could have dropped to my knees and worshipped her.

*

I looked at him. I told him the news. Then I added

‘It’s my poorly day….I’m sorry.’

I thought that would be that. The fact is that men are disgusted by women in their elemental messiness. And most men I had ever had sex with never wanted it during my days.

But I wanted him. I wanted him so fucking much. I wanted to see his bell end covered in my blood. I felt my clit swell and brush against my panties. I put a finger inside and felt how wet I was getting. I saw deep submissiveness in his eyes. He would deny me nothing.

“Fuck me. Fuck me hard. Give me something to remember.”

*

 

Steph had shocked me when she told me she was finishing with me. But I wanted her and I knew I wanted to needed to fuck her one last time and I had for the first time that feeling that I craved her blood. She undressed and removed her panties which were stained red, and her tampon and placed them on the bedside table.

I pushed in. there was a certain resistance, Steph wasn’t as dilated as normal but the abrasion of my initial penetration gave way to the warm and softness as her vagina wrapped around my raw and exposed bellend. I felt further stiffening as I began to pump.

She moaned

“oh baby baby….give it to me.”

Six thrusts and a final deep violent push and she came with a scream as I felt my ejaculation pushing out into the wider waters. I remained there for a few moments before pulling gently out. My prick glistened with a mixture of come and menstrual blood which dripped onto the white sheets on which I would be sleeping later as Steph drove home through the night.

*

This was quick sex, but I was so horny I had no need for foreplay. I just wanted Steve’s cock inside me for the last time. I wanted him to be quick and brutal. He withdrew and rolled over, spent. We were both dripping onto the bedclothes, come, ejaculate and blood. I thought it looked beautiful.

I took my stained panties from the bedside table and pushed it into face, pressing hard to make him struggle for breath. I began to rub and grind. I ordered him to wank but he almost didn’t need to. I rubbed my fingers on the sheet and turned his face red as he came in creamy glugs. I took some of his come in my hand, rubbed it with the blood and thought.

“Wank again and come over my tits. “

He kneeled up and after a few brisk movements was squirting come over me before licjing my breasts. I was covered in come and Steve in my blood. I remembered a line from a poem

“Whatever dies was not mixed equally.”

We were bound together in our mixed fluids. It was smelly, it was dirty, it was beautiful. I wanted more.

*

“We are bound together in love, bound together in blood” shouted Steph. I had come once inside her, twice over her, and she wanted to be fucked again.  I picked up her boots.

“Put these on “

She pulled them on and pushed a sole into my face. I licked and licked feeling myself become hard before she slid down the bed to take me in her mouth, bringing me to the edge again before turning round so that I could take her from behind.

*

And that was it. I was sated. I was a mess. I stank of sex. I guess Steve was disappointed that I didn’t stay for a final shower with him but I had to enjoy this on the drive home. Besides my husband was out, so a shower could wait.

*

She left closing the door softly behind her. I looked at myself in the mirror. I took some more blood and painted two lines, one on each cheek. We may never see each other again but I was no longer ashamed of this.

I left the room and headed for the lift. I began to sing out loud

“War paint, war paint, you don’t need…..”

But I so did.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s