Amy's Secret

The blue of the television set bathed the hotel room walls.

If anyone were to peer inside to see what was on the screen, one would see three well-hung men slowly stroking their cocks. The men were standing around, apparently in some porn plot where they were racing to see who could cum first. The men were laughing, stroking, and then if you gazed at the bed, you would have seen a young production manager fingering herself, amazed at the beefy men in the video.

Twenty minutes later, after each of the men messily and she came gloriously, she finished getting ready for her date. She picked up her cell phone on the way out the door, but it started ringing right before she began to dial. It was her boss.

"Hi, Love," she answered the phone, "How are you this evening?"

"No, she answers, "I am on my way out actually."

She debates whether to stay in her hotel room or go down the hall to the elevator. She knew the conversation might get a tad spicy. She is late for her date, and decides to go out. Busy girl, I know, but this is Amy's life.

The hall is empty, but if people were in the hall, they would hear Amy talking about servicing her boss in his office.

"Oh, yes, I would sit down on your desk, parting my legs, showing you my forbidden pussy. I would ask you if my pussy is the prettiest pussy you have seen."

Amy entered the elevator and continued talking, "Tell me again, I have a prettier pussy than your wife."

Amy looked up and notice she was sharing the elevator with someone else.

She cupped the cell phone with her right hand and said, "Sorry."

The man chucked and said, "Guess I am missing out. If you like, I could tell you how it compares to those I have seen."

Amy whispered that she needed to go, laughed after hanging up and turned beet red.

"Sorry, just a game I am playing with a friend."

They both exit the elevator on the first floor, and Amy heads to the entrance of the hotel to catch a taxi. She was going to get a drink at the bar before leaving, but she did not want to be followed by the elevator friend. She did not have time for him, and she figured she would just be fighting off his advances. He was handsome, but not her type.

The next couple of hours were filled with forgettable experiences. She had met her lover and had dinner together. Through dinner and drinks, she was remembering the porno, thinking about the men, picturing their semen. She was also remembering her boss, the sex chat on the phone, and also remembering his male member. She would not allow him to enter her pussy, but that did not stop her from giving him blowjobs at work. She laughed when she remembered one of her father's suggestions: "Get paid for what you love." Well, she loved everything to do with blowjobs. Good advice, Dad.

Amy slowly came back into the present, started noticing her lover, wondering where they would next have sex. She wanted sex immediately, but because of her partner's OCD, she knew that she could never get her lover to agree to a bathroom fuck.

Between bites of manicotti, Amy gazed into her lover's dark brown eyes, and said, "You are the only woman for me."

What she did not say that evening was that there was room in her life, in her pants and in her bed for many, many cocks. But as long as the cocks did not invade her womanhood, she considered herself 100% lesbian. Oh, and 100% faithful.