More from Chapter 5 of Aching: Memoirs of an Unrequited Sex Addict

Continuing about my night in Hamburg.

From Chapter 5:

She sat up and hit a buzzer to let me in the small door next to the window. I entered and she met me in a cramped, short hallway. Looking back, I suppose crawling through that door was a bit daring. Nothing felt dangerous at the time, but ants probably feel no danger before falling in the ant lion’s pit. Already in a silk robe, she led me up an even more cramped flight of stairs to a room not much larger than a walk-in closet. The room looked lived in, as though she stayed in it and didn’t just use it with Johns. We began talking money, which had drifted out of my thoughts until she asked. She was looking for over twice the amount I had in euros. I could picture moths fluttering out of my wallet as I opened it.

“We can go to the machine,” she said. She appeared frustrated, but also appeared to have been here before.

She threw on a jacket and shoes and led me back the way we’d entered. I thought this might have been a slow night for her if she was willing to do this with me. The notion of being set up for a robbery occurred to me, but I went forward regardless. We arrived at an ATM, both shivering, both impatient. The instructions were in English, but the transaction took much longer than I expected. I could feel her rolling her eyes. The machine dispensed the money and I took the receipt, not wanting to think about how much I’d withdrawn. We returned to her room without a word. I sensed I’d made a mistake.

“You can get comfortable,” she told me.

I did, though I didn’t completely undress until she started to do so. The green bra and panties wrapped around an incredible frame. I really couldn’t gauge her age. She didn’t look young, but she was terrifically toned. Frankly, I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with her. I hadn’t showered after a day of traveling, I was loopy from the time difference, and I’d been outrageously horny for hours. This began to feel more and more like a bad idea. I hoped she would lead.

I reclined on the cot she had for a bed and watched her crawl over me. As I’d hoped, she took control, which I figured was how this usually went for her. She kissed my neck, chest, and stomach, but wasted little time in getting to my underwear. I helped her help me remove them, and she gave light kisses all around my crotch. For as revved up as I’d been all day, I wasn’t fully hard until she began stroking me bare. When I was firm to her satisfaction, she reached for a condom, opened it, and slid it over me while grinning.

“You want me facing or away?” she asked.

I had no problem with those being the only options. I told her away. She spun around, straddled me, and sat down on my cock. I was surprised how wet she felt. Her ass was perfect. I watched in amazement as it bounced on me. It only bounced about ten times, though. The rush hit me before I could warn her to slow down. I felt it surge through my shaft and I let it go without trying to stop it. She heard me exclaim, stopped midway through her movement, and turned to say, “Oh, and that’s it!”

She climbed off me, possibly relieved. A mixture of anger and humiliation burned in me, yet I managed to stay grateful and polite during clean up. I just held up the condom as my way of asking where to put it. She pointed to a tiny trash bin. We both got dressed. She gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and then led me back into the cold Hamburg night.


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