by Alex Gross
(09/09/09)

I'd been in Chicago for three days on business, and this was my last night. After dinner I wandered into the hotel lounge just on the off-chance of finding someone. There was a big crowd, but it didn't take me long before I spotted her. Her eyes were like a beacon as they zeroed in on me as well. She had long black hair and was about five inches shorter than me.

She was leaning against the bar, her vibrant figure arching slightly outward, projecting both rough defiance and soft welcome. Her butt also had a thrust to it, and she had prominent breasts for a short girl. She was wearing a very brief mini, and her long, lovely legs were shooting out akimbo in every direction.

Our eyes were locked together as I approached her, wordlessly motioning her to join me in a booth. We sat down, our eyes still joined, and our words came fast and easily. She too was in town on business, and we would be flying back to opposite coasts the next morning. We both confessed to being married, even to loving our partners, but we agreed that we sometimes longed for more.

It was as though we instantly recognized each other. She held herself a bit aloof, she was breezy and bossy, just like a few other girls I've known. She saw herself as the brightest girl in the office, someone not everyone could get to know.

I came on fairly strong with her, just to let her know I could be bossy too. She smiled, and I think we both realized something was likely to happen. We started talking a bit too fast, then we laughed and slowed down a bit. We felt as if we had known each other far longer, and it hit us that we had been handed the perfect opportunity. It wasn't hard persuading her to come to my room.

In the elevator, I put my arm around her, and she let her body fold against mine. I couldn't help congratulating myself that now by my early thirties I had finally learned how to handle women. I liked them best when they were assertive, it meant they were also likely to be passionate in bed. I knew that their bossiness could melt away when I began to lick them where it mattered.

I felt sure I knew how things would go. I would undress her and let her take all the time she wanted until she was fully pleasured. And as she came down from her ecstasy, I would mount her lovingly from behind and take a long, long time riding her. Half an hour doggie-style, maybe even longer, an hour would be better, before I sought out my own pleasure. I'd spend the night with her and take her that way a few more times, maybe once the tight and narrow way for a change. In the morning I'd just give her a slap on the butt and say so long. Mornings like that were the best.

Back in the real world I was a bit less competent. My fingers were almost useless as I fumbled with the key to my room. But she was patient.

"Hey, what's your name?" I quipped to hide my clumsiness.

"Does it matter?" she replied. She was right, and we both chuckled.

Once we were inside, the rest of the world vanished, and we simply threw ourselves at each other. She dropped her handbag, and we embraced passionately for at least five minutes until we almost collapsed together.

She finally broke the clinch and pushed me away. Then she grabbed her handbag and took out her cell phone, which she decisively turned off. I did the same with mine as she retreated into the bathroom. I began to remove some of my clothes, and when she came out she was wearing little more than her underwear.

We wrapped ourselves together again and began edging in the obvious direction. With her back to the bed, I knelt down before her, plunging my face into her red thong. I kept my lips there for a long time before I pulled the thong to one side with my teeth. I loved what I saw there, and I moved my lips even more deeply between her legs.

She moaned and pressed me further in. Then she sat down on the bed, spreading her legs, and drew my face still further within her. She moaned again and seized my shoulders to pull me up onto the bed. I obliged, landing on top of her, as I tried to keep my face wedged between her legs.

But she pulled my head away and made me sit up and look directly at her. She spoke to me in her bossiest voice. But I could also hear her pleading with me.

She really wanted me, I could tell she was just as aroused as I was. She was just afraid what she said might turn me off.

"Listen," she said urgently, "I need to confess. I'm a little bit kinky. Please be patient with me. Let me do it my way first, and then I'll let you do it any way you want."

My agenda precisely. How could I object?

"Of course," I replied.

I was almost gloating inside. It was just what I wanted. I sensed I was only a few minutes away from riding her butt..

"You absolutely promise?" she asked.

"Sure, you're the boss. In fact, let me call you Bossetta."

She smiled happily. I'd given her just what she wanted, and my mild mockery went right past her.

We took off our last garments, and she put her handbag next to the bed. Then she jumped right on top of me, sitting high on my chest, and pressed down hard. She felt heavier than I had imagined and was bristling with energy. For a moment I actually thought she was trying to pin me in wrestling. Then she did something unexpected.

She reached down into her handbag and pulled out a tube. She opened it and squeezed some kind of gel onto her palm. Before I knew it, she was smearing it all over my face, on my cheeks and chin, my nose, even my forehead. No girl had ever done this to me before, and I almost started to panic.

But then I realized that what she was spreading on my face was nothing but lube.

I still didn't fully get it, but I must have somehow sensed her intention, and it occurred to me that I was in for quite a night.

"Listen, you're not going to..."

"Don't worry, I promise, it won't hurt..."

I could scarcely believe what was coming down towards me. I saw it first from afar, then closer, and at last just a few inches above me. It was the very best view of a lady's jewels I'd ever been treated to, and suddenly it wasn't just a view any more. There it all was -- outer lips, inner lips, the whole works, spread out over everything below my eyes.

"Oh, I want to do it this way so much, I know I'm really going to enjoy this," she gushed at me from above. I couldn't believe how excited she was. She was no longer the least bit bossy, she sounded like a passionate kitten. She gazed down at me with incandescent eyes.

"And I know for sure, you're really going to love it too." She sounded almost obsessed.

This was all totally new to me, though I had to admit she now had my full attention. It all felt a bit scary, but she seemed to know just what she was doing. Anyway, I had given her my word, and I didn't want to chicken out now. I'd just let her go ahead, I figured, and it wouldn't be long before I turned her over and enjoyed her my way.

I wasn't sure what to expect. She was both passionate and abrupt, it was almost like an attack.

And yet it was also soft and comforting. Even her pressure on my face felt strangely soothing. It was a unique feeling, completely unfamiliar, ranging between hard and soft. I didn't entirely dislike it, so I didn't complain.

I suddenly realized there was no way I could complain anyway. Her crotch totally covered my mouth and my nose, I could make little more than animal noises. Once again I felt panic looming up, but I fought it away. After all, I reasoned, this was nothing more than upside down muff- diving. Except it was her muff that was diving into my face. This was cunnilingus on steroids...

It all happened so fast that I still didn't fully grasp what she was doing. At first I had thought it was merely some kind of massage or perhaps a gymnastic drill that would soon merge with what I thought of as regular love-making. But the growing frequency and urgency of her moans soon left me in little doubt of her ultimate aim.

Let me do her justice. She was sliding and gliding and riding over my face with a remarkable degree of skill. Yes, there were moments when she was thrusting down onto me with a great deal of force.

But there were also times when she moved so delicately that she was just barely grazing my features, almost like an angel, gently caressing my nose and mouth with her tender parts. She had all the control and confidence of an artist, and this gave me confidence too.

As aggressive and as strange as I found her, I did not for even a moment consider trying to stop her. And even if I had, her wiry strength and the sheer joy she exhibited would probably have made it impossible.

I suddenly realized that I was letting her do all the work, that I ought to do my part with my tongue. So I started to lick her...

"Don't do that!' she ordered.

This made no sense, so I continued. She came to a complete halt.

"I told you, don't do that!"

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want your tongue to lick my pussy lips. I want my pussy lips to lick your face."

God, she was weird! But I was in no position to argue, so I obeyed her. It suddenly hit me that from her point of view, I wasn't possessing her at all, she was possessing me. It was an odd feeling.

Her mood quickly passed. I looked up at her and found myself astounded at how remarkably lovely she looked from this perspective. And how powerful as well.

I realized that I had never looked at a woman from this precise angle before. Ranging up from where she held my face, her hips zoomed out past her midriff into the broad thrust of her breasts, which looked even larger and more formidable when seen from below. Sometimes she would move forward, blocking my view with her belly, and now and then she would slide decisively upward, shading my eyes in an almost total blackout.

But as she rode me and drove both her pressure and her softness over me, I was able to look up and intermittently see her face, even glimpse her expression, And I sometimes found her own eyes gazing back at me to gauge my own reactions. Not all the time, just occasionally -- most of the time she was entirely caught up in her own pleasure.

She looked so eager, so totally intent on her goal. But I also sensed a touch of anxiety. A chance for perfect ecstasy lay before her, but she also had to pay attention to her every move if she were to reach it.

At least now and then she carefully looked down and scrutinized me, as though she wanted to know exactly how I was taking it. Yes, she was well aware that I was there, that I was technically her lover, I could even tell that she felt some kind of tenderness for me.

But I could also tell that she saw me mainly as a tool, an implement she needed to reach the highest level of pleasure. Almost as a necessary evil. At one point she came close to admitting it.

"Oh...I own you..." she sighed.

And in a flash I realized that this girl was actually taking my cherry in a realm of sensuality I had never known before. I had no choice but to trust her and be grateful to her for taking the trouble. I also had no choice but to believe that this new domain was entirely real. All the intensity and passion of sexuality were present, all the excitement and tension of a fully mounted couple. All the pressure of body against body, the rhythmic strokes and lunges, the sense of looming fulfillment.

There were only two differences: I was the one being mounted, and all of this passionate energy was being channeled directly into my face.

And I suddenly became a bit concerned too, not totally sure of my feelings. No one had ever made love to me like this before. What she was doing was truly intense and totally personal, but also somehow distant, almost as if it were happening to another person....

It was as though she were following an accepted routine with definite rules as she alternated strokes and lunges and teasing motions with her most precious parts. I found myself wondering if she might actually be counting her strokes according to some exotic and unknowable formula. Now and then she made gentle moaning and yelping sounds, as though she were marking the end of one phase and the beginning of another.

During the time when I was able to discern her eyes clearly -- during that time at least there was no way I could miss them -- they seemed to be eating me alive. I could almost see them even during those longer periods when my vision was blurred or totally blocked by her motions. Her gaze so completely possessed me that I kept longing for her eyes to reappear and gaze down upon me again.

Most of the time her inner lips were perfectly centered on my nose, perched on the sides of my nostrils, and yet I felt no real pain or shortness of breath, at least none that I was aware of. Both her scent and her taste were positively intoxicating, sweet and musky together, so powerful that I began to wonder if she was somehow using it to hypnotize me.

Sometimes she would transfer her orifice upwards onto the rest of my face, all the way from my chin to my forehead, totally covering my eyes. But for the most part she zeroed in on my nose, making smaller motions up and down, or from side to side. Or she would indulge in multiple mini-bounces, slightly painful though they caused no real harm.

Once again, I began to wonder if her goal was to entrance me with these rhythms. Or to make me feel faint by limiting the air I could breathe. But then suddenly I would see her eyes again -- as soon as I looked into them, I felt almost infinite comfort and reassurance.

This whole sequence of motions and rhythms went on for some time, I can't say exactly how long, but I wouldn't be surprised if it lasted half an hour.

At length I found myself growing a bit impatient. And to my surprise I realized that she felt the same way.

"Something's missing," she said abruptly and rose up from me. I wondered if I should try to escape from her now, but I had promised her she could do it her way first. And one of the few rules of love is that lovers' promises should be kept. Besides, I did not want to escape.

She immediately turned around and sat back down on my face from the other direction. Whatever she was looking for she now seemed to find, as she ground herself even more deeply into my features. I now found my nose implanted in her rosebud and my chin dividing her lips. She rocked back and forth repeatedly between rosebud and lips, nose and chin. Now the aroma was even muskier, though still not unpleasant. But what precisely was she trying to do to me?

From this position her hands were free to fondle my cock, and she had begun to do so. She wasn't too gentle about it either, at first pulling and tugging the shaft in various directions and finally dealing it some hard, audible slaps. But at least I could tell that it was, if not yet at its hardest, usefully erect.

This too was just a stage for her, it didn't last too long, at most a few minutes.

"That's it!" she shouted, and she turned herself around again on top of me, coming back to her former position. She drew back from my face briefly and picked up her lube tube again.

"Now I've got it!" I think I heard her mutter. But I wasn't sure -- it could just as easily have been "Now I've got you."

She pressed more gel onto her hand and straightway rubbed it down into my face. Then she pressed out another palmful and stretched her right arm out behind her. I felt her hand clasping my cock and distributing the gel there as well. To achieve this her balance now veered slightly to the right, a posture her strength and agility allowed her to achieve with grace and elegance.

"Here we go!" she concluded. Her pussy engulfed my face again, and I simultaneously felt her hand begin to fondle my cock. Fondle isn't quite the word, she was also busy slapping it from side to side. But she finally settled for encircling the shaft with her fingers and sliding them up and down and around. I smiled inwardly. I was pretty sure she wouldn't have much luck with this, as I prided myself on my ability to resist ejaculation.

This is silly, I thought, she can't possibly mean to come in my face and make me shoot my load at the same time. There's no way she can do that.

But Bossetta was oblivious to my reasoning, she was beginning to tap into a wisdom far beyond my own. She began to set down a rhythm that ran from her hand to her crotch and back again. She was working to realize her ultimate goal, and nothing could stop her.

It was from this point onward that things became rather strange for me, and I wondered again if shortness of breath and her commanding tempo had combined to distort my view of reality.

It was not a total hallucination, I was aware that the hotel room was still there around us, but everything else suggested that we were somewhere on a mountain top together with a temple in the background, and that she was a goddess who was somehow both consuming and nourishing my spirit.

Except that she was a goddess who was also a demon with tentacles, and two of her tentacles were concentrated on possessing both my face and my cock. Her aroma became ever more alluring and irresistible, and I could tell from the clasp of her hand that my cock had grown larger and harder than ever before, both in length and girth.

This added to my confusion, since I couldn't imagine how she had done it. It was as though she had dug inside of me through some secret gateway and taken over part of my body. I was also still hoping to mount her from behind afterwards, and I wanted nothing to detract from my prowess when the time came.

There are orgasms, and then there are orgasms. The most usual kinds are the ones that after a certain period of stroking and love-making you yourself have. They work fine, though they are expectable and to some extent unexceptional.

And then there are the other orgasms, the ones you don't have, the ones that suddenly sneak up and have you. This was one of those orgasms.

I was totally in the power of this goddess-demon who showed no sign of relenting or relinquishing her control over me. If anything, her passion had grown even stronger, and I felt the warning signs from between my legs as her massage grew ever more powerful.

I did my best to chant internally a Taoist formula I'd learned from a Taiji master. It was aimed at stopping the flow of sperm, but in this case it didn't seem to help at all. I suddenly felt as if there were two of me, one my normal self, but another full identity inhabiting my penis.

I personally was doing my best to hold back my seed, but then suddenly that other version of me inside my penis felt himself overwhelmed and thrown into violent eruption.

These two identities were writhing and pulsating and spasming together, and the combined force passed from my penis into me and up through my body and into my face, where it effortlessly passed over into my goddess-demon- tormentor.

Bossetta was perfectly aware of how I felt and simply let my crisis run its course, as that other part of me spewed gobs of my manhood onto her back.

She waited until my final vibrations had settled and then summoned her own forces, which soon more than equaled mine. She set herself in cataclysmic motion, bouncing almost chaotically and coming down on me even more heavily than before. It was as if she had entered into her own climactic battle with whatever goddess ruled over her. She rubbed, she ground, she groped all over my face, finally settling on my chin. Then her complexion reddened, and a change came over her. At last she simply moved back and forth three or four times, and my face was awash with her juices, thick, sweet, and musky. I quickly swallowed those closest to my mouth and felt her hand come down to gather some for herself.

I reached behind her back and brought back some of my own fluids and fed them to both of us. For a short while we were like innocent hedonists feasting on love's ambrosia.

During that time there was total peace and understanding between us.

Bossetta moved back onto my shoulders. and when it was all finally over, she looked down at me and summed up our situation from her point of view.

"You are my conquest."

She sounded both arrogant and sincere, as though she really meant it. I simply nodded in agreement. To make her point even more obvious, she moved her haunches forward again, and our two sets of lips met in a perpendicular kiss. Yes, it was a sensuous kiss, but it was also a delicate kiss of greeting and recognition.

"My conquest..." she repeated.

I couldn't deny that she had a point, one that I was in no position to dispute. She had made prolonged and passionate love to me in a manner I had never known before. At a time entirely of her own choosing, she had forced from me the strongest and wildest orgasm I have ever lived through, tempting me beyond my most ecstatic dreams.

It was almost as if she had ripped it out of me, and I was still reeling now that it was over. I felt so totally sated that I wondered how long it would take before I could show her my way of making love as well. And she had totally confirmed her conquest with a long, powerful orgasm of her own that still covered my features. Its power was still alive in both of us.

Yes, I still wanted to take her from behind, but I knew it would have to wait a while. After all, the evening was young. I felt perfectly happy with everything that happened between us and bore no trace of resentment.

Her skills were simply too undeniable to allow any anger, and her everyday reality was beyond all doubting. We had enjoyed a kind of contest together, and the results were clear. I had come in with my game plan, she had come in with hers, and there could not be the slightest doubt that her game plan had totally demolished mine.

I couldn't believe what we had just done together. But the evidence was all too palpably present, after our kiss her whole set of lips was still settled over my mouth and chin.

Gradually we separated and began to fondle each other more calmly. I kissed her gently all around her body, and we tasted each other's juices a second time.

In between these moist exchanges we gazed at each other in joy and disbelief, amazed at how much we had experienced together. We started to giggle uncontrollably and would break one embrace only to begin another. This degenerated into a mock wrestling match, which, ever the gentleman, I let her end by pinning me down on the bed.

"Okay, we've done it my way," she volunteered. You just go ahead -- take me any way you want."

It almost sounded like a dare, as if she challenged me to equal her in her passion and inventiveness.

We wrestled around for a long time before we looked at the clock and found it was already two in the morning. She mentioned something about having to be up early the next morning.

"Look, I don't feel sleepy," I said.

"I don't either," she replied, "But we've got to get some rest."

During this time all of her bossiness had disappeared. She was so totally sated that she felt no need for it. And she treated me as though I were some kind of furry animal she truly loved for helping her to be so happy.

We wrestled and fooled around for most of another hour, with neither of us feeling aroused enough for another round of sex. After all, we had both mightily exerted ourselves.

But we weren't ready for sleep either -- we were much too excited for that. And I still harbored my own desire, though my body gave me no sign this was possible.

At length we made ourselves lie down, as we tried to force ourselves asleep, but that didn't work either.

"Look," she said in the midst of laughter, "I know a way to make us fall asleep."

I dared her to show me.

Once more she jumped on top and this time it was her breasts she brought to bear on my face. She pressed down and kept on pressing, until I thought I would pass out. But suddenly she changed tactics, and I felt sudden hard blows against my face, waking me back up again.

This time she was no longer suffocating me but pummeling my face with her breasts. They were more than heavy enough, and I knew that if she went on too long, she might well knock me out. I felt this was a cruel way of sending me to sleep, but before I could object, she changed tactics again and began to use her breasts in the way women best employ them, to massage and soothe and comfort my face.

This time I felt she had it just right, but before I could doze off, she went back to smothering me again. And then to pummeling, And finally back to comforting. She even started over a third time -- smothering, pummeling, comforting, and as she reached the comfort stage, I thought it must be over, as we were both by now truly tired.

I was just about to doze off, but to my surprise, she started in on a fourth round of smothering. It didn't last long -- it ended when I felt her erupt into a sharp shudder that left us both a bit shaken. Now at last we were both truly ready to sleep, and as we curled up in each other's arms, I couldn't help wondering if that shudder of hers had been some other kind of orgasm, one I had never seen before.

"Hey, you really do own me..." I remember muttering just before I dozed off.

When two lovers sleep through the night together, all kinds of things can go on that they may not recall the next morning. I remember them pretty clearly, simply because this entire encounter was so remarkable in so many ways. I know that we remained cuddled together all night long and that even though we needed our sleep, our bodies were still wildly attracted to each other.

Of course there were also dreams, reminiscences of our recent passion, at least once reenacting the precise sequence of her movements that decisively defeated me. Even today in my mind's eye I can recall that series of strokes, twists, and fingerwork that turned my lower body into a human juice machine.

All night long our arms and legs remained linked and our faces were often touching. Most clearly I remember that the head of my cock spent almost the entire night right inside the vestibule of her passage. And sometimes it tried to peek further in, only to be gently prodded away.

After all, we needed our sleep more than passion. But I recall for a certainty that during that night, though we did not make love again, we were as close as lovers ever can be.

On one occasion, about an hour before dawn, I almost woke because I was getting hard, but this time she resisted even more fervently. Once again sleep trumped sex. And I also remember thinking, "Oh, well, nail her in the morning," just as I fell off again.

It was she who woke me that morning with the noise of a TV news program. As soon as she saw me moving, she turned it off. I had trouble focusing my eyes, but I could see that she was standing stark naked by the TV, and just as desirable as ever.

I think I was still half-dozing, while she rattled on in the background about how she had to have breakfast with another girl from her firm before they both flew back to LA together. This meant she would have to return to her room and change clothes, because she couldn't possibly come to breakfast looking the way she had in the bar last night. I was still sleep-logged and couldn't absorb it all.

"Please don't go," I blurted out.

"I'm not going anywhere," she replied, coming right up to the bed. "I have no intention of going. I'm not leaving until I've taken you again..."

She wasn't joking at all. She stood next to me, right above me, and her voice was at its bossiest. In one motion she jumped back into bed and landed on top of me again.

Needless to say I began to wake up, but she had taken me by surprise, and there was no way I could stop her from what she was already doing.

Out came her lube tube, squish went a large glob all over my face, and there it was again, looming downward towards my nose, irresistible but maybe just slightly menacing, her whole passionate center throbbing as it moved to engulf me. She had fully and truly mounted me again, and when I looked up I saw how useless any resistance would be.

This time, she didn't even ask my permission. She simply took charge of me as though I were her property. I felt a bit resentful, since this meant any hopes I had of taking her were null and void.

I found it infuriating...well, not quite. As soon as her vulva settled on my face and began its teasing massage, all my objections fell away, and I happily settled into her enticing rhythm. She was busy humping away at my nose and chin as though they belonged to her.

Well, after all, I reasoned, she had once again taken me fair and square, if a bit unexpectedly. I had to give her credit for that. She had allowed me several hours to do things my way, and I had done nothing. She had every right to take command again.

Then it suddenly hit me what she was doing, and a touch of resentment came back to the fore.

This was nothing else but the classic finale to a one-night stand: the early morning good-bye fuck. Except it was her pussy fucking my face again instead of the way I really wanted.

Once again her taste and smell were overpowering, and she had me perfectly pinned beneath her. Her rhythm was positively enticing, and I realized that I was for the second time succumbing to the sheer force of her sensuality.

There was no doubt that her mood towards me had changed. Yesterday I was an interesting experiment for her. Today I was just meat. She had somehow downgraded me from her favorite sexual partner to little more than a slut. And at least some part of me seemed to be accepting this role. This time she didn't bother with any explanations or apologies. She was in complete control, and she knew it.

She was coming down on me even harder than the first time, and she was cutting off my breath even more completely. I could feel her juices coursing within her, and I knew she could let them loose on me at any moment. Amazingly, it hit me that I actually felt eager to receive them. But I also soon realized that she was taking her time, that she wanted to make our final encounter last as long as possible, mainly for her, incidentally for me.

She now said something aloud that confirmed this perfectly:

"Oh, I'm having you, I'm taking you, I'm using you..."

In any contest there are times when the loser begins to identify -- or at least sympathize -- with his winning opponent. After all, that opponent is doing precisely what the loser would like to be doing to the winner. It must have been this, or perhaps it was just everything added together -- her taste and scent, my reduced ability to breath, her pressure upon me -- that sent me off once again into a fantasy world.

Except I didn't believe it was fantasy. I was suddenly certain that I had become one with her, that I could hear her thoughts as she had her way with me, that I was actually inside her head listening to those thoughts...And I was absolutely certain they went something like this...

"...Oh, now I've really got him, this is just fabulous, he's so easy to take, and I'm handling him just right, he's totally my prey, my absolute victim, he's never been made love to like this, he's never come this close to a girl's pussy before, the poor bastard...he just doesn't know how to deal with it...anyway I'm the one who's helping him, who's busy deflowering him...And I'm really being quite gentle about it, I'm doing my very best to make it all perfect for him, I mean, sure, I'm going to let it all shoot loose soon, but only when I'm good and ready...oh my god, I'm getting too close, gotta pull back, it almost got me too excited...can't let that happen...build it up slowly again...yes, that's it...WOW! I am really using this guy, but I don't feel the least bit guilty about it...should I feel guilty? hell, no!...he's loving every minute of it...it's the best time he's ever had in his life...so I'm going to just go on using him...I'm even raping him a little, I jumped him before he was ready, maybe I even raped his cock yesterday, but what the hell, what's the point of knowing how to do all this if I can't use it to fuck a guy's brains out...anyway he's happy I'm raping him, just look how much he's enjoying it...oh god, I'm coming too close again...oh, that feels so GOOD!...oh yeah...what the hell, gotta do it some time, HERE WE GO...!!!"

And at that exact point her whole body started to vibrate, her sexual regions began to churn and contract and release. She had so totally taken over my mind that I was cheering her on. It seemed nothing less than glorious when she lunged at me with all her force five or six times, and my face was once again drenched with her fluids...

She rocked back and forth over my face a number of times before she finally came to rest. She pulled herself back to glance down at me, but this time there was no real ceremony. She had taken me, just as she had promised she would, and that was that. She playfully tweaked my nose with her fingers and arose from me with a "mission accomplished" air.

"Hey, you are one great piece of face. I've got to take a shower." She uttered both sentences in the same tone of voice. And she again mentioned having to meet her office colleague for breakfast before flying home.

She went into the bathroom, and I heard her turn on the shower.

For the first time since last night I was actually alone in the room, and this seemed to prompt all the misgivings I had been hiding, even from myself. Yes, she was truly gifted as a lover, I reflected. And yes, over the last ten hours she had shown me a whole new domain of sexuality, one I had never known existed. And yes, it was utterly genuine, as intense as any sexual pleasure I had ever enjoyed. I would certainly want to go on enjoying such pleasure in the future. And this is where I foresaw a real problem...

Now that our encounter was almost over, I found myself wondering how on earth I would ever be able to enjoy this kind of loving again. And with whom. This was a remarkably new way of enjoying sex, something I knew I would never be able to achieve with my wife. There was no way I could hope to teach her, I wouldn't even know where to begin.

How could I ever find another girl like Bossetta? If I wanted to go on making love like this, I would have to bring about some important changes in my life style, perhaps frequenting darkened East Village haunts or posting suggestive ads on weird websites. But if I did this, I wondered how long my marriage would survive...

I was also still unhappy that I had not been able to finish our session the way I wanted. In our short remaining time, how could I ever convey to her my deepest desire? That I needed to see her before me on her hands and knees, her bottom arching high as the clouds, while I gleefully rammed her buttocks into the sunset.

There had to be a way I could do this. Hell, now I was really getting angry! She promised me I could do it my way. And then she jumped me in the morning before I was ready! Damn it, she has to keep her word!

But how could I persuade her? Calling me her conquest was an understatement -- she'd scored several direct hits and totally demolished me. She'd taken the lead at every point, claiming my face twice and ravishing my cock, not to mention her strange assault with her breasts. But she had clearly broken the rules, she had gone too far. What I had trouble understanding was why I found so much of what she had done positively exciting and all of it remarkable.

But she still owes me something, I concluded, she has to do it my way too! Anyway, there's no reason any of this has to end now. We can stay a whole other day, even two more days if we feel like it, I could call in sick, and so could she, we could change flights...no, this doesn't have to end now at all!

I got out of bed and went to the bathroom door. It was open just a crack, and I could see her form behind the glazed wall of the shower. Should I just go in now and tell her? No, it would be more polite to wait until she came out. In later days I would have reason to regret this decision, I would even become almost certain that if only I had gone into the shower and accosted her naked, it would all have ended differently.

When she finally came out, I realized in a flash that I didn't have a chance.

She was dressed again as she had been the night before, her complexion was flushed with all the pleasures she had enjoyed, and she looked more beautiful than ever. Her breasts jutted out jauntily in one direction, her butt in another.

She was agleam with sheer desirability, and I could hardly believe I had held her sweating and straining above me just a few minutes earlier. What I most wanted was to go back to that lounge and pick her up and start the whole night all over again.

"Hey," she gushed, "we had a good time, didn't we...?"

"Listen," I started, but the words would not come. I felt like a naked peasant approaching the lady of the manor in all her finery.

"Wow, make sure you wash your face. It's a real mess," she said with a touch of pride.

But there was no way I could hide it, I had to go on, and I tried to make a fresh start...

"Wait...stop!" I shouted, "You've got to stay...I want more..." I reached for her. She saw my erection, and under her gaze I could feel it begin to dwindle.

"Listen, I really don't need this," was all she replied. And she turned towards the door.

There was no hope left. She was simply in her own world. She was even ending it on her terms. She was making it amply clear to me. I truly was her total conquest, and she didn't take prisoners.

Once again she made me feel like nothing so much as a used, messy, vanquished peasant. I heard my voice, almost as though it were not mine, calling out for one last favor, imploring her...

"At least tell me your name, give me something to remember you by..."

"Okay, I'll give you something. Just remember this. I did you. You didn't do me. And we both enjoyed it. That's all that matters."

She picked up her handbag and headed for the door. Her face was flushed with joy and triumph. I followed her and sought out her eyes, and these at least she granted me.

She gave me one last puckery little kiss. I will never forget what she did next.

She reached down and slapped me hard on my bare ass. Just to make sure I got the message, she slapped my butt even harder again, this time with a resounding thwack. Her bossy expression was at its bossiest, but I thought I caught just the slightest glint of compassion in her eyes.

Then she opened the door and walked out of my life forever.

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