My Favourite Life

August 26, 2006

New Orleans

New Orleans 1994, the Springtime of the year of my divorce. Kristen and I spent a week in New Orleans before Katrina devastated it. The kids were staying the week at her parents, so we had a run of the place. I was attending a conference during the days, and she spent her days sightseeing. On this day, I was going to meet her in Bourbon Street. By the time I got to her, she was totally wasted, having been barhopping most of the afternoon. She was hanging out with some guys she had (evidently) promised a good time. They were all drinking together and ordering another round. I don’t drink, myself, but she wanted me to try a hand-grenade. She knew I didn’t drink, but I told her I would if she would suck my cock when we returned to our room. She agreed. I ordered the drink, and finished it. On to karaoke!

We continued on to a club where there karaoke was being performed, and she started dancing suggestively. Anybody could tell she was drunk. I kept my distance and just watched as various men fought for her attention. She was getting groped left and right, but she didn’t flinch. I just had to roll my eyes.

When the evening for her was over, we started walking back to the hotel—well, I was walking she was stumbling—, and she had a male friend tagging along. He and I almost got into a fight when I asked him to leave. It didn’t help when he said he had been invited. It helped less when she agreed with him. I finally got him to get lost, and we continued our journey back to the hotel. Kristen was pissed—in more ways than one.

When we finally got back to our room, I reminded her of her blowjob bargain. Our relationship was one of many bargains. As had happened many times previously, she tried to renege. She got undressed and asked me to fuck her, still grumbling that I didn’t let the other guy return with us. She was sprawled out spread eagle on the bed. I was pissed myself, so I proceeded to fuck her, but I had other plans. I pulled out and tried to get her to suck my cock, but she said she would puke, and so I got out some K-Y, lubed up and slid my cock into her ass.

I had fucked her ass many times before, but never without preparation and never without warning, and she had always taken me doggie style. This was different, but she was so relaxed and wasted, there was no problem. After a surprised, “What are you doing?” she said it was OK. It was so exciting. I must have fucked her ass for twenty minutes to half an hour until I came inside her. I felt better. She passed out.

The next morning when she finally awoke, I recounted the events of the night before. She remembered getting her ass reamed, but thanked me for not allowing the stranger to come back with us. I told her that despite the ass fucking, she still owed me a blowjob. As was her way, she offered up her ass again the following night in proxy. It was not often I got two nights of ass in a row, so I agreed that the bargain had been satisfied.

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