fatfuck gets a taste of his own medicine

On Wednesday afternoon, I graced fatfuck with my presence at the hotel room. And, yes, I had a big surprise for him. Given my amped up G-spot, I thought it only fitting for dr. fatfuckenstein to see my G-spot in action. I begged Jesse to have the honor. Jesse is a great fuck, but he needs certain atmospheric conditions for a great fuck to happen, and having a hairy fat man in the room isn't the right atmosphere. So I had to go to another fuck friend who is a little more wild, but unpredictable. I couldn't be sure he would show up. But, wonders never cease, he did.

Arion is a cafe au lait hottie, you know a la Lenny Kravitz, that look. And hung. He always wants you to think he's busy, but busy means on the cell phone by the pool, yes, he's always working on these super-secret projects and things, I'm not sure what he actually does, perhaps it isn't quite legal, perhaps it is, but he's a species well-known in Miami, the playa. But this playa knows how to fuck. And I've known him since high school.

Fatfuck could barely endure our fucking and my seismic orgasms, he was jerking furiously to it, with his hand under the heaving slab of belly fat, gulping air like a walrus. Finally, I heard fatfuck grunt and spurt. Fatfuck left us to fuck without an audience, he said there was something for me on the bureau, this meant the cash. Oddly enough, Arion was like, hey it's been cool, but I gotta run. He pulled out without finishing! Wha???? How much of this is mine? he asked. $300 I told him, in a most annoying tone. Later, girl. He kisses me then leaves. Was this all about the performance, the cash, had Arion developed a drug habit and just wanted to score, was I not hot enough, was fucking me with the walrus in the room too much of a buzzkill? I was like wet, horny and didn't know what to do. I called Jesse, it was 3pm. Well, fatfuck left if you want to come over to the hotel. So you didn't find anyone? he asked. No, I didn't. Of course, I lied. Yeah I can ditch out of work early, he said, give me a half hour or so. So I took a quick shower and put the rest of the cash away and answered the hotel room door wrapped Roman-esque in a bedsheet. Was this cuckolding? Or mere deception. Or sweet revenge.