Please give me a chance. I’m in New York, I’ll come up to Boston whenever you want.”“I’m leaving for a camping trip to New Hampshire tomorrow, I’ll be gone for about a week. Call me after I get back.”“Who are you going with?”“By myself,” she said, sounding a bit defensive. “Not that it’s any of your business.”“Okay.”I hung up and paced my small apartment for half an hour. She sounded very unfriendly, but I thought I heard a subtext that was much less belligerent. On a whim, I rapidly packed my backpack for a multi-day camping trip, went to the Chinatown bus terminal, and bought a ticket to Boston.I went to her address in Cambridge. It was a modest house about a mile from Harvard Square, one of those cut up into multiple student apartments. It was past midnight, so I called her rather than ringing the doorbell.“What you do want, Johanna?” Again, the harsh tone, with the undercurrent of – what? I could not be sure.“I’d like to come on your camping trip with you.”“You can’t. I’m leaving. The water was just perfect. You got in after me and sat down. Then I sat in your lap and you washed the cum off of me while you kissed my neck. I reached over and grabbed the wine, filled up the glasses and took a sip of mine. After I handed your glass to you, we sat in the water and relaxed for a bit. You kissed my neck and played with my tits and then told me to stand up and I did. Then you fingered my pussy a little, getting my juices flowing again. Then you let some water out of the bath so we wouldn’t make too much of a mess. You turned me around so I was facing you. Then you sat forward more, leaned back, and motioned for me to sit in your lap. When I did, you slid your cock into my honey hole. I bounced up and down on your hard rod, nice and slow, then working up a good speed. I felt my body tense and I felt your cock harden. I stood up and leant down over the side and lifted my bum high and you came in behind me, spat on your cock, and rammed it into me deep and hard. Then.
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