Coffee, Tea or Me

Nancy was almost certain that she was having an erotic dream. She was laying supine, pinned face down to the mattress, as she was being impaled by an impossibly long, thick penis. Her phantom lover had one of her legs lifted and bent at an awkward yet not uncomfortable angle that enabled even deeper penetration. She climaxed, again.

Somehow Nancy found herself on her back rather than on her belly. The apparition that was ravaging her had each of her ankles resting upon his broad shoulders. With her body contorted almost in half, she was helpless to resist as he penetrated her even deeper. She could have done nothing to resist, even if she'd wanted to. She could merely lay there as she savored the distinctively masculine, exotic aroma of the incubus who was ravishing her as well as the sensations of his powerful penis pummeling her sex. She climaxed yet again.

Nancy's orgasm must have triggered her phantom lover. Once again she felt that wondrous penis throbbing as it swelled even larger inside her. She climaxed yet again as yet another wet, warm wave of his potent semen flooded her vagina.

Nancy was only vaguely aware of the sensations of that rampant erection gradually softening inside her as she slept. She mewed with frustration as the still swollen penis gently withdrew, releasing more than a mere trickle of semen. She was left feeling empty inside as she drifted off into an even deeper slumber.

Nancy was awakened by an annoying beeping. She'd set the alarm on her phone. She opened her seemingly anachronistic flip phone to reveal the widget with the analog clock face. Her phone had dutifully roused her at five in the morning.

Although she hadn't been foolish enough to drink yesterday, Nancy felt hungover. She was struggling to wake up even though she'd actually taken many intermittent naps these last few days. She just needed time and copious quantities of caffeine to fully awaken.

As the intentionally annoying beeping abated, Nancy was overwhelmed by the oppressive realization that she was once again alone in an empty bed. The sound of the wind howling outside only intensified her sense of loneliness. Blizzard conditions had once again prevailed from coast to coast throughout the Northern tier states.

Seattle wasn't nearly as cold as the upper Midwest or even the New England states. However; they'd brazenly left the drapes open as well as the lights on last night. Ostensibly, they had wanted to enjoy the view of the city lights rather than indulge in blatant exhibitionism. They'd been safely shrouded by distance as well as anonymity. They'd turned off the lights when they were spent but neither of them had gotten out of bed to close the drapes. Unfortunately; the cold now seemed to somehow permeate through the expansive windows. It felt as if it was Groundhog Day all over again.

Nancy only reluctantly reached for her phone to check for messages. She couldn't go back to sleep. Her flight hadn't been cancelled.

The predawn twilight taunted Nancy with the sight of an all to familiar hotel room. She was almost certain that she'd never been in this exact same hotel room before. However; Nancy had awakened in this same hotel room, perhaps on other floors of this same hotel, or in the same hotel room in the same hotel in one of so many other cities. It made no difference if one awakened in North America, Europe, South America, Asia, or even Africa. The rooms in the airport hotels were all the same.

The monotony of the hotel rooms had only gotten worse during the Covidvirus epidemic. The quarantine protocols had compelled crews to languish in presumptive isolation for weeks at a time. Nancy had been to grateful to still be working to complain about those particularly harsh restrictions whenever she flew to Asia. The airline had recognized her years of faithful service. She hadn't been penalized for the episodes of maternity leave when calculating her seniority. They'd recognized her determination to shift her focus from her family back to her career. Many of Nancy's younger, more impatient colleagues had been furloughed during the pandemic.

Fortunately; hotel management had turned a blind eye to their imprisoned guests seeking out distractions from the boredom imposed by the quarantine protocols. The airlines had been equally tolerant of their employees violating the protocols as long as they were discrete. As a result of Nancy's diligence combined with the policies to promote Diversity, Equity and Inclusion, not to mention her newfound moral flexibility, new career opportunities had presented themselves.

Nancy had resolved to repent after the Covidvirus pandemic abated. She'd made promises to her husband that she'd wanted to keep. Unfortunately; she kept falling off the wagon. She'd yielded to temptation yet again.

Seeking comfort and reassurance, Nancy focused her attention on the screen of her flip phone. She'd received a text message as she slept. Her husband had texted her a photo. Nathan and their three daughters as well as Rufus, their Golden Retriever, were smiling at her. She was now separated from her family by only half the North American continent rather than by the vast expanse of the Pacific ocean. While the image was a comforting reminder that she'd soon be home, it also provoked guilt.

Nancy hadn't really contrived to tarry these extra nights in Seattle. She'd simply exploited the serendipitous opportunity. Given the chaos that now reigned in the wake of the nationwide storms, she'd had little choice. Aircraft as well as crews that had been grounded remained randomly dispersed, mostly at the wrong airports. The system was only gradually beginning to return to some semblance of equilibrium.

Reaching down between her thighs, Nancy gently palpated her vulva. Her sex remained sore from being used and abused. However; the mild pain evoked memories of intense pleasure.

Nancy couldn't deny reality. She'd fallen off the wagon again. Her most recent paramour had been well over a decade younger than she. He'd been impressively endowed and exceptionally virile. It had been her third transgression, no her fourth, this last year. The only mitigating factor might be the fact that she'd been with him before. She hadn't added to her body count yet again.

Nancy's therapists had encouraged her to not think of herself as a nymphomaniac. She'd argued that the word was not only judgmental but sexist. Her hypersexuality was merely a consequence of the nihilism that had evolved during the Covidvirus pandemic. Nancy's own husband had argued that the politicians and the bureaucrats had viciously nurtured and exploited the hysteria as a pretext to impose tyranny. They hadn't cared about the resulting economic devastation. They hadn't considered the emotional toll that they had imposed on people. Teenagers, tweens and younger children had suffered the most. Perhaps it really wasn't her fault that the unrelenting propaganda campaign had wrought such a profound change in her behavior?

Although Nancy could rationalize her promiscuity, she castigated herself for her most recent infidelity. She had actually gone almost six months last year without succumbing to temptation. Remaining abstinent when she was away from her husband hadn't killed her. That episode of fidelity had actually been somewhat liberating. She'd been freed to try once again to fulfill his desires. She'd been liberated to make love to her loving husband without reservation or restraint. Unfortunately; circumstances had once again conspired against her.

Nancy had rationalized that the only possible alternative to remaining in Seattle for an extra night had been spending a night and then a day deadheading home. After her flight assignment was completed, she would have spent another day riding in a succession of jump seats on a circuitous route that would only eventually take her home to Tyler Texas. The serendipitous opportunity to pick up an actual flight assignment would have been irresistible even without the carnal motivations.

Unfortunately; Nancy couldn't pretend that the extra pay and the additional flight hours had been her primary motivation. She'd actually been elated when the storm system serendipitously intervened to not only cancel her flight but prolong her most recent assignation. She struggled to alleviate her guilt with the thought that she'd return home to her husband and children soon enough. No one need know. She'd once again revert to her stereotypically mundane, married, mother's life.

Slowly, almost painfully, Nancy rolled out of the queen bed. The hotels loathed wasting space. However; their guests almost invariably appreciated having a bigger bed even if they usually slept alone. Nancy was no exception.

As she stretched, Nancy inspected her reflection in the floor length mirror opposite the bed. Of course she was nude except for her black garter belt and matching dark stockings. Packing a nightgown was an unnecessary affectation that wasted precious luggage volume as well as her weight allowance. The hotels always had luxurious, terry cloth robes that were soft and warm. She giggled as she reminded herself that she'd not gotten completely undressed last night or two nights earlier anyway.

Memories of last night drew Nancy's attention to her vulva. She inspected herself. Her labia remained red, swollen and distended. Her vagina remained obviously dilated. She watched as another drop of semen slowly seeped out.

The modest growth of dark pubic hair that so often provoked unfounded accusations that Nancy was merely a bottled blonde was matted with dried and drying semen. The semen had been running down her thighs all night to soak her stocking tops. Yesterday and last night as well as the previous three days had been...memorable.

As she bent over to unhook her garter belt from her semen stained stockings, Nancy's eyes searched the hotel room. Her little, black dress remained draped over the chair. However; while she'd gone commando last night, she'd worn a bra. She'd been motivated to wear the balconette style bra by vanity rather than modesty. She favored that style bra because it supported yet flaunted her breasts rather than conceal them. It made her look younger. She always looked fantastic when she was wearing that bra with her little, black dress. Her blatantly flaunted cleavage and potentially exposed nipples always drove men wild. The black bra that complimented her little black dress as well as her garter belt and stockings was now nowhere to be found.

Finally, Nancy remembered. Her paramour had wanted a souvenir, truly a trophy, to attest to his conquest. Nancy hadn't protested. He hadn't been the first to make such a request. It wasn't often that a man had the opportunity to claim a size thirty-four, double-Dee cup bra as a prize.

Fortunately; Nancy's husband was to astute to question her about lingerie that went AWOL. They'd long ago reached a tacit understanding. Ask her no questions and she'd tell him no lies. He had always been eager to have an excuse to buy his wife new lingerie anyway.

After stowing her semen stained lingerie in her luggage, Nancy retreated to the bathroom. The shower remained warm and damp, attesting to her paramour's recent presence. He'd been compelled to arise an hour earlier than she for his own flight assignment.

He'd been wise to leave early. The fine folks at the Federal Air Transportation Administration Safety Service, otherwise known as FATASS, were renowned for subjecting airline crews to gratuitous indignities. They could be particularly insulting to cabin crew. Even after the Air India disaster, the security imbeciles remained oblivious to reality. One pissed off pilot could ruin everyone's day.

One of the fringe benefits of the better hotels was that hot water was almost instantaneous and inexhaustible. Nancy luxuriated under the falling water. She stood so that the shower stream hit the back of her neck then flowed over her shoulders before cascading down over and between her breasts then down her tummy and between her parted thighs to gently rinse away some of the semen. Eventually, she lathered her shoulders then her bruised breasts before moving downwards to her belly. Finally, she lathered her curvaceous thighs and shapely legs. Unfortunately; she had no one to wash her back.

As always, Nancy resisted the urge to cleanse her vulva. Her doctor had explained that doing so could disrupt the natural biota of her vagina. For some reason, allowing traces of semen to abide in her pubic hair as well as her womb also seemed to alleviate her guilt. She could rationalize that at least she wasn't exasperating her repeated transgressions by trying to conceal the evidence from her loving husband. A bit of perfume would camouflage any telltale scent of lingering semen during her flight home.

While Nancy refrained from washing her sparse growth of dark pubic hair, she was less circumspect about her long, blonde hair. She had wanted to finish her paramour with a farewell blow job after they returned from dancing last night. While she'd shamelessly encouraged him to cum in her mouth, he'd withdrawn in time to spray the last few spurts in her hair. She hadn't complained. The primal act of marking her as his territory had inspired him for yet another round. She'd orgasmed once again as he gifted her with yet another load of sperm in her womb. Unfortunately; it wouldn't do to have globules of dried semen clinging to her hair during her flight home.

Nancy vacillated as she reached down towards her vulva. Her sex remained somewhat sore and swollen. This four day fuckfest had been extreme even by her standards. She was reminded of those incidents during the pandemic when she'd indulged in a gang bang. The first had been during a layover in Ankara. She'd reprised that pornographic performance barely a year later in Pretoria. Both times the dark skinned locals had obviously been enthralled by her pale complexion. The competition had only enhanced their virility.

Nancy hadn't been delusional. She hadn't presumed that her diaphragm could endure those marathons of serial fuckings. She had simply hoped and prayed that the biometric sensors of her smartwatch combined with the ovulation tracking application had enabled her to accurately judge when she was in the safer phase of her cycle.

She'd been bemused when the men only become more determined to inseminate her after she confessed that she was unprotected. During each of those incidents, Nancy had taken at least two dozen loads of cum from half a dozen men.

Word had gotten around. Some of her colleagues had begun to refer to her as the locomotive. She could pull a train. It was almost as insulting as referring to her as a "cougar." Meow.

As she washed her hair, Nancy could only vaguely recall her erotic dream. However; she was almost certain that the somnolent encounter had been no dream. Unfortunately; she had no way of knowing when that nocturnal copulation had occurred. Certainly it had been an hour ago, maybe even two hours. However; it certainly hadn't been three hours ago much less the recommended six.

Glancing at her smartwatch was not reassuring. Two days ago, the heart shaped icon had transitioned to glowing fertile green rather than merely caution cyan. The icon hadn't been glowing a reassuring clear blue since Nancy first left home almost a week ago! The timing couldn't have been worse. Unfortunately; she'd last inserted her diaphragm yesterday morning. It would be unwise to wait much longer before removing it. She'd also suffered that mishap yesterday afternoon. Hopefully; it would be okay. Hopefully.

Sinking her middle finger deep into her vagina, Nancy felt around until she finally found the rim of her diaphragm. She carefully hooked her finger in the removal dome. Although she pulled only gently, Nancy felt her diaphragm yielding. As she pulled her diaphragm away from her cervix, she realized that the contraceptive device must have shifted again. Hopefully; this mishap had occurred sometime as she slept during the night.

Nancy was unsurprised. Her diaphragm had served her reasonably well over the two decades that she'd been engaged to then married to Nathan. Only their middle daughter had been conceived unexpectedly. However; her doctor had recently cautioned her. The contractive device was inevitably less reliable for more mature, parous mothers than nulliparous young women. The device was even less reliable if a woman's partner or partners were exceptionally well endowed. The risk became even greater during more vigorous, less restrained sexual sessions such as yesterday afternoon and last night.

Nancy found herself reminiscing about that fuckfest in Pretoria as well as the aftermath. That dalliance had occurred as the Covidvirus lockdowns were finally easing. She'd misjudged her cycle. She should have been relieved when she miscarried, but she hadn't been. Her

Nancy's loving husband had obviously suspected the truth. However; he hadn't confronted her. Nathan had actually comforted her as she mourned the death of her unborn baby. Her doctor had informed them that her child had been a boy. Nancy had been motivated to repent. However; she'd succumbed to temptation again not many months later.

Nancy had been on top yesterday afternoon, riding her paramour in her favorite, reverse cowgirl position. She had been sucking on her own nipples when she felt her diaphragm shifting. There was nothing she could do as she felt him beginning to ejaculate inside her.

When Nancy dismounted, her paramour's penis had been wearing her diaphragm as if it were a helmet. She'd wondered if she might have been wiser to just trust him to restrain himself again rather than risk relying on her diaphragm. He'd proven himself earlier yesterday morning as on earlier occasions. She'd discovered that most men could and actually would restrain themselves if she insisted.

Unfortunately; Nancy's paramour had been annoyingly amused by her embarrassment. He'd obviously been aroused as he watched her frantically reinsert her already semen saturated, contraceptive device. They had then consummated their assignation again. Although she was worried, she had eagerly encouraged him to cum in her for the third time in as many hours. Why not? She might already be pregnant.

Fortunately; Nancy's contraceptive device hadn't slipped again during dinner and dancing. She'd been confident as they consummated their assignation two more times last night. She'd been unconcerned as she fell asleep in her paramour's arms with his flaccid yet still swollen penis remaining inside her.

Unfortunately; there was nothing that Nancy could do about her diaphragm slipping again during the night. She might have reinserted it. However; that would be as futile as closing the barn door after the horse had escaped. It would almost certainly be okay. She'd experienced similar mishaps before without suffering the consequences. It was somewhat reassuringly as well as depressingly obvious that she was no longer as fertile as she once was. Her pussy needed a break anyway.

After thoroughly rinsing her diaphragm, Nancy carefully set the device out on a towel to dry. She then went to work with a towel then a blow dryer. Unfortunately; Nancy's long, blonde locks didn't dry easily. She was also getting hungry. She craved caffeine. After wrapping her hair in a towel, Nancy slipped on the hotel robe then headed for the elevators.

Long gone were the good old days when the hotels invariably had a coffee shop where you could get a real, sit down breakfast that was served by a waitress. The best one could do was a self served "continental breakfast" in the lounge. Fortunately; this hotel had a waffle maker as well as an enormous urn full of coffee. Of course it was even Starbucks coffee! Seattle wasn't quite dead yet. Nancy wouldn't fall asleep or starve to death as she prepared for her flight home.