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He keep pumping her hard for five more minutes before she felt his hot cum again fill her belly.She was exhausted when he rolled her over onto her stomach. He pulled up her hips so that her ass was up high enough for him to fuck it. She buried her head in the pillow and moaned "Yes fuck my ass". A finger rubbed my pussy then moved some of the juices from it to my ass. His finger slip in my ass, worked it open only to be quickly replace it with his cock. He pushed the head, waited a second then pushed the whole length in to me. His balls slapped my pussy as he rammed into me. He slammed her so hard it sent a shooting pain up her body. The pain woke her up enough for her to push back at him as she enjoyed the pleasure and pain he was giving me. How he could last this long was beyond her but she was glad he could. He increased his speed as his strong hands held her hips pulling her back to meet his forward thrusts. He continued to send his cock deep inside her harder and harder until. " I bent down and started to dry my legs off a bit and she slapped my ass as she walked by. "Giddy-up pack mule." You guys run ahead. I will take the stuff back to the room and get changed. When you are ready to meet up, just shoot me a text message where you are and I will be there." We parted ways as they headed towards the boardwalk and I went to the hotel.**********As I made my way back to the boardwalk, I noticed a small shop at the end of the row. There was brightly patterned shirts and dresses in the window, a poster of Bob Marley on the door, and the fresh smell of weed wafting out of the propped open door. I knew that Amy loved to dress as I call "hippy-dippy"… it sometimes drove me crazy, but it was one of the quirks about her that I grew to love. I headed into the shop and started looking around. I lazily looked at some dresses and sarongs, walked past the men's clothes and over to the counter. One on side sat a bunch of multi-colored glass bowls in various sizes.
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She didn’t know that I had been with two men since Tom died, but both had been in their own way disasters and it had taken me some time to recover. The first was only about 6 months after Tom died. I had been at a dinner held in Tom’s memory by the Charity he had supported for 30 years. Many of those attending had worked with him in one way or another for years and in their own way felt the loss as keenly as I did. One in particular, became rather drunk, as had most of us to be honest, and since I was the only one going in the same direction I agreed to see him home. The cab passed my house first, so I invited him in for coffee and to give him the chance to sober up slightly. He was recently divorced and like me I think, rather lonely, so when he fumbled a kiss I surprised myself – and him – by responding. We stumbled our way into the bedroom, giggling and kissing like teenagers before falling on the bed, he with his shirt half unfastened and his trousers round his ankles, me.

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