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The story of Sebastian and Laura (2)

ReneeGray

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on: October 23, 2019, 04:14:13 PM
After my divorce from Laura, who had been my wife for more than five years, I never imagined that my life could be rebuked in a normal way.



At first, I was unable to give up the habits I had acquired over time and living together.



All those mechanical responses such as looking at the clock before leaving work to see if I would arrive on time to eat, when in fact nobody was waiting for me with the food done, or the instinctive gesture of putting the arm in front of the co-driver's seat before a sudden braking, despite going alone in the car, all these small nonsense became unbearable.



Our common friends became Sebastian's friends and Laura's friends.



My relationships with them didn't change at all. I went to all their parties and they responded to my invitations in the same way.



In Laura's case, although the majority still professed their friendship to her, when we had to coincide in a meeting or in a party, they tried to avoid such meetings leaving her on the margin.



My ex-wife lost a part of her friends with our separation, and more specifically for the reasons that caused it, even though I never told any of our friends.



For that reason, Laura stopped frequenting our circle.



She couldn't stand the thought of being judged every time they met, and she couldn't stand the fact that some of her friends, whom she had known for a long time, were queuing up to try to be the first to console the newly released bachelor.



I, for my part, did not attend to his requests. I had not yet come to the idea of my singleness and I did not want to go through a love disappointment again.



But all this changed thanks to a good friend, of whom I will omit the name, who seeing one afternoon my decay, proposed me to go out to party with him.



At first it seemed to me a solemn nonsense, but his commercial skills made a dent in me, and we ended up marching through the city.



That night, in a crowded fashion nightclub, my friend told me that what I had to do was take advantage of my divorce. Now I was free to do everything I used to want to do, but I refused to do it.



I replied that I was very wrong, that I had never considered being unfaithful to my wife.



And he replied something that perplexed me. He told me that it was because he had a wife, in the event that it was true that I had never noticed anything else, which he doubted.



But now I didn't have a wife. There was no mechanism to lower my head so as not to look at the secretary's neckline, or to change position if on the subway my package grazed the butt of a university girl.



No more married habits. I wasn't anymore.



Then I saw how my friend introduced me to a beautiful waitress, called Maica, whom I had known for some time as one of the regulars of the disco.



I first noticed her two huge green eyes, with a yellow eye shadow on her eyelids, a charming smile and a sweaty pearly forehead. I also noticed her lips, quite thin, and her long blonde hair.



It's been years since I've looked at a woman like that, at her face. With total tranquillity and without the tingling of the conscience indicating to me that I should not give rise to anything, because I was married.



And I also noticed that he had a scary slutty face.



Now I understood why my friend had chosen that crowded nightclub instead of a quiet pub for a few drinks.



I was throwing a hook at me, and although that night I only kissed Maica twice and introduced myself, I had swallowed it all the way to the bottom.



My eyes were already open. And, ugly as it may sound, my fly too.



My attitude towards the opposite sex changed radically.



At that time I had a reputation for being a completely cold and distant person in my dealings, both among my coworkers, especially my coworkers, and among those friendships that I only considered as acquaintances.



From that moment I began to change my behavior in front of them.



In my workplace I began to interact with all my colleagues, to the joy of some of them, showing an extroverted character that until then I had never shown in public.



Between jokes and relaxed comments, I began to distinguish which were the women, some barely girls, who were interested as more than a friend, and who were simply happy about the change of personality of their co-worker.



Therefore, I took advantage of the slightest opportunity to throw certain comments, innocent compliments and praise of all kinds to those of my colleagues who were more to my liking.



On the other hand, and according to what one of my best friends in the company told me, Sebastián's ban had been opened.



It was the comidilla of all the comes that were formed in the company.



If it was women who formed it, they bet to see which of them would get something more than a few nice words on my part, and in the case of men I was put to give birth, either out of envy or for not understanding why a newly divorced did not launch to try each and every one of the women who so evidently offered themselves to me almost daily.



But I knew the best was yet to come.



A few weeks after the Christmas holidays, the first lonely for a long time, a beautiful woman joined our staff whom I will simply call Anje.



Anje was of Norwegian nationality. He was one of the most recent signings for our International Marketing department, which he would immediately take over.



And I have to admit, she wasn't just beautiful.



She was about the same height as me, about 1'80, and with her heels she added several centimetres to that superb perch, something that seemed to discourage more than one of her department colleagues.



Moreover, Anje was one of those authentic Nordic blondes, cold as valkyrie, with blue eyes like remnants of sky and with a white, almost snowy complexion.



She was wrapped in tight suits-jacket that enhanced her imposing figure, and above all, enhanced her bust.



I tried to imagine her naked several times, imagining the exact size of her breasts.



But they escaped my imagination. That body of a goddess from the north, with endless legs and a portentous back became for me my first objective, my first prey after many years of succumbing to routine.



I began by introducing myself in a correct German, which I discovered to be her mother tongue, as she was only Norwegian by birth.



She thanked me very much for the detail and asked me who I was. A little offended, but with great disguise, I explained to her who I was, that my work had nothing to do with the one I would develop in her apartment, but that by mastering German as well, if I needed a hand, I would be happy to volunteer.



I expressly used a literal version of the expression "lend a hand" in an apparently innocent manner. I saw him smile and he replied in an excellent Spanish that he thanked me but that he didn't need a translator.



With one of my best smiles I said goodbye to her with a "Se de i morgen", a Norwegian expression that means "see you tomorrow", I turned around and walked away.



The amazed face was worth it. At least I had caught her attention, and that was more than I intended by just crossing a few sentences.



The following days I let myself be loved by several of my office colleagues, showing myself laughing and cheerful with them, knowing that Anje was contemplating us.



When we crossed each other I greeted her, in Spanish of course, quite effusively, but without barely stopping, something that caused her between intrigue and rage, from what I could deduce.



One afternoon, Anje approached me and told me that as she still didn't have many friends in the city and needed to do some shopping, that if I could cicerone her for a few hours, to which I gladly offered myself.



We met at work and I took her to stores, and she bought a lot of clothes, some makeup and some pieces of jewelry.



At one point Anje asked me to accompany her inside a haberdashery store, if I had no qualms about it.



We both came in and she, or it seemed to me, tried to choose the most provocative outfits available in the store.



It was then when I could get an idea of the size of her breasts, when trying on a size 100, asked the manager the same model but a larger size.



When she had finished, she asked me to accompany her home, as she was exhausted.



I replied that she might want us both to go to a nice restaurant she knew for dinner, since in view of her tiredness she certainly didn't want to cook.



Anje smiled seductively and nodded, wondering if I was used to having dinner so early.



I hastened to answer that it was, indeed. So I could use the night to do much more interesting things.



She laughed and asked me what those things were.



I had intended to make her discover it very soon.



We had dinner at an incredible restaurant I know, which I had taken only to my ex-wife Laura on special occasions.



At dessert time, after a good bottle of red wine, Anje was as chatty and cheerful as I had ever seen her before.



The mask of a cold and professional executive had given way to that of her rosy cheeks and nose, probably because of the drink.



I took the opportunity to approach her, hold her hands and touch her soft skin, apparently in a totally innocent manner.



I asked for the check and we were ready to leave the premises, when she asked me to wait for her, that I had to go to the toilet.



I politely walked her to the door and she came in.



While the door was open, I noticed that the services in the restaurant were relatively small.



A room with a small dresser gave way, in the background, to a single service.



I couldn't see any more, but apparently only one person could enter the bathroom at a time.



And that's what made me attack.



 I entered the ladies' room and went to the bathroom where Anje should have entered.



I prayed that the door wouldn't be closed because in my plans there was a very important element, called surprise, that could ruin my plan.



I was terribly excited, and my package was about to explode.



I slammed the bathroom door and found Anje drying himself with toilet paper.



She put on a face of total surprise, and before she could react, I started lowering my fly, taking out my penis next.



I told her we could either keep waiting or repeat dessert right there. In either case my offer wasn't going to last long.



Anje, who had her skirt rolled up and her panties around her ankles, knelt down, pulled my limb towards her and put it all in her mouth, starting to suck her sweetly.



The morbidity to be discovered made the situation especially morbid for both of us.



A couple of minutes later I asked her to stop. I made her sit on the toilet, took off her panties and told her to spread her legs for me.



Until then I had not been able to see her pussy, with a beautiful mountain of venus topped by a fine line of blond hair, and juicy reddish lips, which stood out like a wound between her white skin.



I knelt before her and began to lick her pussy with fruition.  She nibbled on her clitoris and sucked on it, pulling out screams from Anje that she was trying to drown out with the back of her hand.



My tongue began to rummage inside her, making her open her legs to the maximum, as if she were a gymnast. My fingers followed the path of my tongue, and three of them were inserted into her vagina at the same time.



Anje was crazy. The color of her face had transformed from a snow-white, topped by her fiery cheeks, to a passion red, the product of her excitement.



Anje was unknown. Her hair, previously perfectly arranged, fell on her face and shook in the air every time she contracted pleasure from my caresses.



When she could no longer burst into a muted orgasm, drowning out her screams so much that I thought she was going to shatter her throat.



After a first brutal orgasm, she suddenly rose and leaned forward with her back to me, separating her legs well and leaning against the wall.



I proceeded to penetrate it slowly from behind.



I was surprised by the extreme heat I felt inside. Her pussy was soaked and her juices were falling down her legs.



It looked like the ice woman was melting because of my pussy food.



I began to move slowly, burying my penis as deep inside Anje as possible. She endured my onslaughts and groaned weakly.



I took advantage of my position to start unbuttoning her blouse as I fucked her. I separated her clothes and tried to get one of her huge breasts out of her confinement, so that I could squeeze it as I wanted.



 When I began to knead her tits, which I felt were the most appetizing I had held in my hands, she came back.



Her arms could hardly hold her, but I did not give up in my sway. On the contrary, I increased the rhythm, to the delight of both of us.



Anje begged me to come, because her pussy couldn't take it anymore. But I wanted to delay that moment as long as possible. At that moment her two breasts were already uncovered and swaying to the rhythm of my attacks.



I accompanied my penetrations by subtly twisting her nipples, pulling them to release them suddenly.



She was like crazy. She backed more and more wildly, making her ass hit my calves.



And a third orgasm came to her suddenly, amid a surprising scream in her native language that I couldn't decipher.



By then, several tears rolled down his cheeks.  I was out of my mind and couldn't take it anymore. I noticed how her legs wavered and her voice was so shaky that she was unable to make any intelligible sound.



Then I pulled my penis out of her and ordered her to put it between her breasts.



I wanted to run between her tits, about which I had commented so many times with my office colleagues.



She as a submissive maid hastened to put my member between her breasts and began to knead it and move it to my delight.



Anje began to tell me that she wanted to fuck me from the first day she saw me, and that nobody had ever fucked her like that before. Her whispering words excited me as much or more than the sight of her hands crushing her breasts against my cock, shaking me like an electric shock.



I soon announced the arrival of my ejaculation, which crashed into her chin first, and her mouth and part of her neck afterwards.



He finished the task by wiping my penis with his tongue, sucking my glans with force to extract completely all its contents.



After a few seconds the two of us remembered where we were and decided to dress her and get ready myself, as quickly as possible.



Obviously, she didn't have time to clean up, since exactly when she was finishing buttoning the last button of her blouse, a woman entered the toilets.



When I saw her with all the mascara running down her face and disheveled hair, including my presence in the ladies' room, she put on the faces of a few friends.



I told her "it was a lovers' quarrel" and winked at her. The woman winked at me complicitly and left the service.



Anje laughed eagerly as she quickly trimmed her hair. She kept telling me that never in her life had she had such a good time, that nobody had fucked her like that, and that she didn't know this side of the Spanish.



I couldn't say for sure that we were all good lovers, but I told her that when we had time, tonight I would remember her as an aperitif.



She ran and threw herself into my arms, kissing me with a tongue that paralyzed me for an instant.



We both left the restaurant, and by the faces of some waiters, everyone knew what my escort and I had been doing.



We took my car and accompanied her to her residence. A nice house, recently built, just ten minutes from our place of work.



Anje suggested that we continue in her bedroom what we had started in the restaurant. But I politely told her that she had an early morning meeting, and what I had in mind for her would not allow her to walk for at least a day.



She reacted to these words by closing her eyes and taking one hand to her crotch. She had to bite her lower lip to suppress a chill.



I told her to meet me at the office in the morning, and not to make plans for the weekend.



When I left I saw through the rear-view mirror how she was watching my march from the sidewalk, without moving.



Just the thought of what I was going to do to Anje that weekend made me splice again.



I thought to myself that I had hit the best dust of my life that night. And I laughed like a madman on my way home, playing music at full volume and singing at the top of my lungs all the way.



It will continue...



PS: Thank you for all your comments on our first story. We look forward to responding to all of them.


 

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