Claire is introduced to the Salon by a friend, and is intrigued enough to look into it. She discovers a discreet service for busy people who need a little help getting off. In order to help the Salon to tailor a program that is suited to her needs, Claire is required to complete a practical introduction for a camera. This ‘homework assignment’ proves to be a lot of fun.
“Matt will be along in a moment to introduce himself and take you through your first session. Welcome aboard!”
Like everything else to do with the salon, Matt was not at all what she had been expecting. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, exactly. But the 6’3″, tousle-haired specimen with a killer smile was a welcome surprise. He was lean and well-muscled, comfortably well dressed and in another setting could have been her personal trainer. Even without thinking about what was about to happen, Claire felt her heart skip a beat as he led her down the hall. As they walked, the sounds of pleasure were unmistakable behind every door they passed, which only served to heighten Claire’s sense of anticipation.
They entered a small but beautifully appointed room, not unlike a nice studio apartment in a resort. Dark blues and reds were off-set by small down lights giving it a feeling of warmth. Claire’s professional brain noted the design and approved. Other parts of her brain were beginning to react to very different signals.
“If you don’t mind,” Matt asked, “we spend some
time getting to know new clients first. I really enjoyed reviewing your practical. I think we’ll have some fun together.” She blushed.
They began to talk, and within moments Claire felt wonderfully at ease with Matt and soon they were laughing together. This must be one of the more crucial parts of this process, she thought. In order to feel relaxed and open to being ‘serviced’ – this was the word that seemed to sum it up – the client would need to have a certain rapport.
After a while, Matt stood up.
“Right! I’ll be back in a moment. You can take your clothes off and slip into the robe provided, and then we’ll get started.”
Her heart was thumping so loud she felt sure that the young lady at reception would be able to hear it. She quickly stripped and pulled on the crimson silk gown hanging behind the door. A reclining lounge was the dominating feature of the room, and she tentatively sat down on it. It looked like a first class equivalent of a dentist chair. The leather was soft, comfortable and warm. She let the robe fall open and hoped this wouldn’t be inappropriate, and immediately smiled at how ridiculous that thought was.
Matt came back into the room. Without a word, he walked over to her, and in one fluid movement slipped an eye mask over her face. Plunged into sudden darkness, she gasped. She sat back, breathing hard, heart thumping, trying to ascertain what he was up to. She strained her ears for the movement of his body, but heard nothing. Was he watching her? The seconds stretched out. Her mind began to conjure images of what was happening, or going to happen. She became aware of scents in the air. Soft aromatics, warm and spicy and arousing. She was aware of the warmth of the room, and now she could hear him, moving quietly around the room. His movements stirred the air and she could feel it across her exposed skin. The fine hair on her forearms stood up. She was aware of the texture of the leather beneath her. She reflected that usually her own pleasure was a rushed process, hurried and ill-prepared. This imposed patience was just another layer added to the feelings now coming alive within her.
The seconds ticked by and still he made no move towards her. The anticipation was delicious, and she found that the initial tension raised by the deprivation of her sight was replaced with the tension of the how’s and why’s and what’s. She was becoming aroused as her mind’s eye continued to play out ever more explicit scenarios. Were there people watching, like she had fantasised during her practical? Perhaps Matt was getting himself off while he looked at her? She pictured her own pussy, her lips beginning to glisten. She felt like she could even perceive the folds of silky flesh within her parting and sliding. She found herself squirming in the seat. She was incredibly turned on, and still Matt had not even touched her. She loved to use her imagination while she masturbated, but again she thought about how rushed everything usually was. Now, she indulged it, letting each scenario build and take shape.
Finally, she could stand it no longer. Anticipation and patience were one thing but such was her desire to come she decided she couldn’t wait. She moved her hand over her belly, her fingers seeking out her throbbing, pulsing clit. But just as her fingers reached the spot she longed to touch, strong hands seized her wrist. She gasped. Her wrist was moved back to her side, and swiftly restrained. A second later the other wrist was similarly held. Now she was deprived of both sight, and the use of her hands. This served to ramp the tension to another level. She had never been tied down before, though it was an idea she had used in her fantasies.
Claire expected that this change in mood would mark his beginning to touch her, but again he immediately stepped away. She was almost overwhelmed by now. There was a small amount of give in the bonds holding her wrists, but nowhere near enough to let her touch her swollen clitoris. She was on fire, desperate to feel something, anything. Her hips ground against the chair, and she tried crossing and uncrossing her legs, but to no avail.
“Touch me,” she whispered. “Please”.
“Touch me.” This time the plea was louder, more insistent.
Finally, after she thought the anticipation would become too much, his strong hands held her ankles, and slid upwards. There was warm oil in his hands smelling of the same aromatics she had sensed before. Where he touched her skin, she tingled. His hands rubbed up over her thighs and hips, over her belly, then upwards and outwards towards her shoulders. Her hips had stopped moving, such was the delicious sensation his hands were delivering. Her skin tingled all over as he rubbed and massaged her arms, shoulders, neck, then smoothed his hands back over her tummy.
His hands slowed as they moved down her body. She was holding her breath as they crept lower and lower. Her legs parted as his thumbs moved over the tiny patch of hair between her legs. He very carefully parted her lips, letting the air play across her inner petals. Her mouth opened in a soundless gasp as the acute awareness of her body heightened the sensation. For the briefest of seconds, one delightful moment, the pad of his thumb barely grazed her clit. This time she cried out and moved her hips, trying to prolong the contact, but he was already gone. His hands never left her body, but slid up to trap a nipple each. He rolled them in his fingers, increasing the pressure slowly until she felt like bolts of electricity were shooting up and down her body.
Suddenly he stopped.
“NO!” she yelled. But again he stepped away from her and left her begging. She was just about to scream at him when all at once he returned. A hot tongue enveloped her clitoris at the same time his fingers parted her wet lips and slid inside her.
Behind the eye mask she saw bursts of light. His tongue felt serpentine, weaving over and around her clit as his fingers gently parted her pussy. In her state of sensory deprivation she could feel the contrast between the heat of his mouth and a channel of cooler air that drifted over her most intimate flesh. Every exquisite movement, each tiny manipulation felt amplified. She felt as though she could discern every bump on his tongue, every microscopic ridge on the pads of his fingers.
She strained against the bonds that held her wrists, longing to add her own touch to his. Her tummy felt hot and tight and she could sense the distant rumblings of what would soon consume her. She could perceive an avalanche of pleasure tumbling and roaring towards her. She moaned and panted as his fingers and tongue fell into rhythm, pumping and flicking, sliding and stroking.
She sensed the power behind the climax. This was not a pleasant little afternoon shiver. This was not a hurried fumble when a spare moment arose.
This was building and growing and rushing. It was doubling itself as it gathered in her lower belly. Then she felt a microscopic moment of falling.
She came. The orgasm surged through her as the flat of his tongue traced circles over her clit. The pleasure rolled through her in wave after wave after wave. It pierced her and spread to every nerve ending, every millimetre of skin. She became aware that the loud moan that she could hear was her own.
His tongue circled slower and slower around her
clit until her body went limp and a languid heaviness spread through her. He removed the mask, and he smiled down at her. She realised in a haze that while her vision was restored, her hands were still held fast. His hand was still resting on her lower stomach, his fingers splayed. The feeling was quite lovely. He began to very gently massage the still slippery skin there, manipulating the area in slow, gentle circles. She felt peaceful, and she smiled at him.
She looked back at Matt’s hand on her stomach, and even as she watched, his finger slid between her swollen lips and into her soaking pussy once again. He was careful to avoid her clitoris, which felt too sensitive to be touched. Once inside her his movement stopped.
Claire looked back at him, and their eyes were glued to each other as his finger turned, gently stroking the front wall of her vagina. Already her breathing was speeding up as she contemplated what he was trying. She had never tried to have multiple orgasms, as her clit was always almost painful to touch after the first.
But he continued to probe inside her, his movements slow and deliberate. A second finger joined the first, and together they stretched her open. The cool air against her soft skin felt amazing, and he paused, taking his sweet, torturous time. He went back to searching for that little bundle of magic just inside her. This was uncharted territory for Claire. She had stimulated this spot in a fumbled and incidental way during her self-exploration, but he distinguished it with a practiced ease that made her tremble.
She also revelled in the sensation of surrender; he was in control, he was the expert, he was the professional. She whimpered beneath his searching fingers, and loved it. His fingers traced circles around that spot, and with each circle, her arousal grew. He changed direction, stroking with long slow movements from inside to outside. As she threw her head back and closed her eyes, his other hand gave her clit the gentlest brush. This caused her to start, but not shy away. Inside her, Matt’s fingers rubbed more firmly, while outside his pressure on her clit increased with every stroke. He seemed to sense the right pressure she needed, keeping the contact less direct than before. The effect was exquisite.
Finally, his fingers found a rhythm, stroking, rubbing. She lifted and parted her knees, spreading herself further for him. She felt so utterly aroused that she didn’t care how brazen this might appear. Her eyelids fluttered, and the room seemed to fade away as her second orgasm erupted. Her pussy gushed over Matt’s hands as they scissored back and forth. White hot pleasure seared every cell in her body until she almost couldn’t take it.
Then she was floating. Her hands were across her body, hugging herself as she floated out of a warm cloud of delicious sensation. Matt was pulling the silk robe over her, though she was barely able to focus on him. He whispered something in her ear, and the feeling of his breath on her neck made her shudder. He smiled and left, closing the door quietly as he did so.
After a while, she stood on shaky legs and dressed herself. She could feel her cheeks were flushed as she walked back to the reception desk. The girl behind the desk asked her if she had enjoyed her first session. All Claire could do was nod. She’d done more than enjoyed it. Clearing her throat, she made another booking.
Juliette held her daughter’s hand while she drew the flower. “Flower,” she repeated patiently.
Simon smiled from across the too short table as he assisted his son. “Car,” his deep, sexy West Texas drawl caressed her skin.
Her nipples hardened inside her plain white bra. ‘Get a grip,’ she chastised herself. She had no business lusting after the super hot single dad, who had recently joined their special needs homeschool group. Looking up, she saw five other pair of eyes watching the man’s every move.
She frowned. She and Simon were the only single parents in the group, but evidently his charms were so obvious that the married moms felt the need to look as well. She should be relieved that she was simply responding to a handsome male like all the others, so why did she feel jealous? It was not like she had any claim to the man.
She looked down at her tattered and dusty jeans. Her t-shirt too was stained, spaghetti sauce from Sammie’s breakfast, toothpaste and now bright pink paint. Juliette could not remember the last time that she wore something nice. Probably more than a decade ago, before Sammie was born with Downs Syndrome. Another lifetime, when she had a career in real estate, a husband and got laid with some regularity.
But Sammie’s birth had changed all that. The responsibility of caring for a special needs child meant that returning to her career was out of the question, not that real estate was that great a career choice any more. The strains of parenting their special little girl had been too much for their unusual marriage as well. Any child would have strained her husband’s ideal of an open marriage that included swinging, regularly sharing her with other men and of course numerous affairs.
Juliette had gone from wild, worldly woman with more cock than she could handle and the occasional pussy to super mom that had not gotten laid in so long that she could barely remember.
Trouble was she remembered all too well, three summers ago. The young Mexican handy-man that was fixing her barn. She had put Sammie down for her nap and gone out to see how things were going. It had quite literally been a quick roll in the hay, she smiled.
Oh, well, thank god for the Internet, she thought. She had several sites saved to her favorites. She chuckled, wondering what the other upright Christian moms in the group would think if they knew that she regularly visited place like Kitty’s Klimax and Cyberstudly. But then again watching them hyperventilate over Simon, she figured they had no right to talk. She wondered though how far they would go, would they drop their drawers for the man as the saying goes.
She looked up at him once more. His slightly greying hair was a tad long, but then again she knew how hard just getting a haircut could be with a special child in tow. There were soft laugh lines around his eyes and mouth that only enhanced his smile.
But by far it was his towering six foot three inch frame of solid lean cowboy that had everyone salivating over Mister Studly. It was sinful the way soft denim hugged and caressed his tight ass. Hell, if the other bitties were not watching, she would be tempted to cop a feel. Smiling, she wondered what he would think.
She realized suddenly that his light blues eyes were studying her, returning her gaze that she knew was way too bold for this situation. She dropped her eyes to the paper.
Sammie was smiling with delight at the pink grass, purple cows and blue sun on it. She clapped and bounced up and down in her chair. “Ow,” she proclaimed holding up the picture.
“Yes, sweetie, cow. Purple cow. Is our cow purple?” she asked.
Her daughter shook her head, “Ow-n.”
Juliette kissed the top of her child’s head, “That’s right, brown.” Tears clouded her vision. Forget hot studs, she would not have her life any other way.
“Well, folks, that is it for this week. Thank you all for coming and see you next Tuesday,” said the officious woman who organized the weekly group. Her husband was pastor of the church in which they met, but that had not stopped her from sneaking a couple of eye fulls when she thought no one was looking, thought Juliette.
Sometimes she thought it would be best if she took Sammie and left this place. Small town hypocrisy got under her skin. But she knew it was an impossible dream, unless she won the lottery. They were only able to make ends on Sammie’s disability because Juliette’s grandmother had given her the tiny ranch outright before her death. So they were stuck and Juliette learned how to smile nicely and pretend to be as vanilla as all the people around her.
She lead Sammie to the beaten up old pick-up. The Internet was good for something other than porn, she reminded herself to stop and pick up oil and a new filter. They had to keep Ole’ Betsy going another few thousand miles.
She was buckling Sammie into her seat when she felt the light pull on her shirt. She turned to look down at Bobby, Simon’s eight year old Autistic son. “Hello, Bobby,” she said as he studied the light brown dirt that hung to everything in these parts.
“Bobby was wondering if Sammie would care to join us for lunch at Mickey Dee’s,” smiled her fantasy man.
She thought about the oil change and all the other chores that needed to be done just to keep even a small ranch going. She knew that she should graciously decline. What good would an hour in this man’s company do other than remind her of all the things she could no longer have?
On the other hand, it might also feed her active imagination. Her nightly ritual of porn of masturbation was getting a bit stale. Maybe she could come up with some excuse to brush up against the guy, to work her sex-starved body up to a frenzy and add excitement to her otherwise perfunctory substitute for real sex.
She nodded, “Sure that sounds good.”
He smiled and those soft lines tugged at her gut, “Great, just follow us, then.” He said as he took his son’s hand and half drug the boy back to the new SUV. She frowned, out of her league on so many levels. Handsome and rich, too bad, she sighed as she got into the driver’s side and started the engine.
Almost two hours later they sat laughing and talking like old friends surrounded by paper wrappers and half empty cups. Juliette had learned that Simon was a ‘fly boy,’ a former Air Force pilot that had traded his jets for the red-eye run from Lubbock to Dallas. He was lucky to have his sister nearby and she would stay with Bobby at night while his father worked.
She had also learned that the child was not autistic as she had first thought, but that he suffered from Fetal Alcohol Syndrome or FAS. Simon had been deployed so often during the first years of his marriage that it was not until his son was born that he learned of his ex-wife’s secret drinking. When he came home one day to find the infant crying and his wife passed out, he had made the decision to retire, care for his son full-time.
Of course, he had learned her story too. Abandoned by the ex, taken in by her grandmother and struggling to do the best she could by Sammie. She had though left out a few of the saucier details. No one in this small town knew of her past.
He smiled and covered her hands with his, “You know this is the best first date I’ve had in a long time.”
She frowned, “Is this a date?”
He chuckled, “Probably as close to one as we can get with those two. Although if my sis is up to double trouble, I’d really like to take you out to dinner and movie on Friday. I don’t fly the weekend routes.”
She fidgeted in her seat. A date? A real date? it was not something that was on her radar. How could it be? She had long ago given up on any possibility of a life, beyond the occasional random screw when she could find the chance. She should be through the roof and she was, really she was. But some part of her was scared too. Frightened to even believe that more was possible. She sighed, torn between hope and despair. But she found herself nodding anyway, “I’d like that.”
Which is how on Friday night she found herself prancing in front of the full length mirror in Sammie’s room. “Prutty, prutty Mommy,” Sammie bounced at the end of her bed.
Juliette shook her head as she looked in the mirror, she sure hoped that her daughter’s assessment was accurate. The woman staring back at her certainly seemed attractive enough. Her light brown hair flowed about her face in soft curls, she had forgone the usual functional ponytail and dug deep into the cupboard for her blow dryer.
She had pulled out her make-up case while she was in there. She probably should have bought new as old as this stuff was. She just hoped that her face did not swell up like a sponge in the middle of their meal from some dormant bacteria or degraded chemicals. But she had neither the money or the time to waste for such things, not for a single night.
A single date. All right, her first date in close to two decades, but that did not matter. The point was to not get used to it. Not get her hopes up. She was a single mother with a special needs child, she had long ago accepted her lot in life. This night was just an aberration.
She smoothed her trembling hands down the front of her dress. She hoped it was not too revealing. Well, it certainly was for the occasional trip to church that was mandatory when you lived in a small Texas town. It had been her little black dress in that other life. The one that looked professional and sexy at the same time. The hem was a good three inches above the knee, a major no-no for this place. The back was scooped out so low that you could see her dimples just above her butt, the butt that its soft silk caressed like a second skin.
But by far the deeply plunging neck line that revealed the ample swell of her C-cup breasts was the reason that this dress had been relegated to the very back of the closet only to be looked at with longing when she was searching for something else. But not this night. This night she had pulled it from the depths of hell, allowed it to air on the clothes line and sprayed it lightly with some of that new freshener stuff to restore its former glory.
Of course, it was not possible to wear any underwear with such a dress. Good thing too since she did not have anything sexy left. Plain white bra and bikini panties would never do with something like this. She blushed as she remembered with embarrassment asking the woman in Wally World where she might find a pair of stockings. Not pantyhose, but stockings. The black sheers hugged her still shapely legs and ended at the top of her thighs. They had been her one splurge for this fantasy date.
Them and a bottle of depilatory. Somehow shaving just had not seemed good enough. She wanted her legs silky smooth even if they were covered in stockings. What had surprised her was when she found herself slathering the pink thick paste over her pussy. It had been so long since she had bothered with such things. What was the point? Why keep it nice and smooth if no one was going to be down there? Eating and fucking. She shivered at the thought. ‘Enough, girl,’ she reminded herself. ‘It is just a date. A single date.’
Her thoughts were cut off by the loud knock at the front door. They had agreed that Simon’s sister would watch they children at her house since Bobby was far more adaptable to changes in his routine than Sammie. She rushed to the door, but her daughter was faster. She threw it open and hugged her friend, “Obby, obby,” she cried with glee. The woman that stood next to the boy was far younger than she had assumed. The girl looked to be in high school, perhaps a freshman in college. She frowned, reconsidering if this was such a good idea. Could she really manage two children?
“I’m Regina. Don’t worry about the munchkins. I’m a teacher’s aid and work with special needs children everyday,” she said as if reading Juliette’s mind.
Simon put his hand on the young woman’s shoulder, “I couldn’t manage without Little Sis. I promise everything will be fine.” His eyes travelled from her face slowly down her body, “Although not as fine as you look.”
She blushed and stammered out a ‘thank you.’ The next fifteen minutes or so were spent with Regina, the children trailing behind as she showed the young woman where to fin everything. She had made spaghetti which was Sammie’s favorite and told her exactly how her daughter preferred it.
The girl smiled up at her, “We’ll be fine. I’ll call Simon’s cell if anything happens. But please would you two get out of here. This is my brother’s first date in five years. I’m not holding out much hope of him getting laid tonight, but just so you know I don’t mind staying over if you two should want to,” she trailed off as Juliette blushed.
The low chuckle from behind her and the large warm hand that came to rest at the small of her back only deepened her embarrassment. Simon bent and kissed the top of his sister’s head, “We will take that under advisement. Especially as delicious as my date looks, baby sister. Now good night you two,” he smiled at his son and her daughter but they were already engrossed in the super hero video that played on her old television set.
As the front door clicked closed behind them, his hand moved from her lower back to her shoulder. He spun her slowly around, his hands gripping her upper arms. She shivered a bit.
“Are you cold? Do you need a jacket?” he purred. His face was just inches from hers.
She shook her head, “No, I’m fine,” she stammered. “Hot, it’s too hot,” she breathed as he closed the small distance between them.
“You are too hot,” he purred against her parted lips as he swooped in to capture them with his. His tongue delved inside her mouth, dancing against hers. She moaned into his mouth when his hand came up to squeeze her breast through the soft silk. He pulled back slowly, his hand still covering her tit as he stared into her eyes. “How far do you go on the first date?”
She gritted her teeth, “Feed me after you fuck me, but right now my pussy juices are practically dripping down my thighs.”
He laughed. It was deep and rich. “Damn, who would have thought I’d find a real woman in this hell hole?” His hand went back to the small of her back as he guided her to the SUV. He lifted her into the passenger seat. She started to pull her dress down when it rode up too high, but his hands brushed hers away. Instead he pulled it higher still until her freshly shaven pussy winked in the fading summer sun. “Leave it like that,” he commanded.
Juliette nodded, suddenly feeling more shy than she had in a very long time. What was she thinking? What was she doing? Having fun. Being a woman for once instead of simply Sammie’s mother. She would not allow recriminations to spoil this one magical night for her. She would grab whatever it offered with glee and deal with tomorrow when it came.
He climbed into the driver’s seat. “God damned stick shift. I can’t get you close enough to play with that sweet pussy properly, baby.” He took her hand in his and kissed the palm softly. Then he laced their fingers together and slowly trailed their joined hands up from her knee to the edge of her dress. He looked at her as he moved them to cover her mound, “So you are going to have to do it for me. I want you to play with that pretty little kitty for me, but don’t come. I want to give you the first orgasm of the night myself.”
His thick fingers speared her wet, swollen cunt. He moved them inside her for a moment. She felt the intense pleasure and need building, knew that with just a little more she would come right here, right now. But he drew his hand back slowly, leaving hers alone on the wanton opening.
His eyes held her gaze as he brought his fingers to his lips, he stuck them deep into his mouth. She imagined doing the same thing to his cock, sucking it deep down her throat until she gagged.
He slowly pulled them out with a smile, “Delicious. But you’ll taste even sweeter after I deposit a couple of huge loads up there.”
She shivered, her nipples aching. “What the hell are you waiting for? Let’s get out of here or I’m going to drag your ass to my barn and fuck you in the hay.”
He shook his head, “Hell, no, woman. I want us miles from our kids cause I intend to make you scream so loud that the whole damned town will hear.”
She blushed, “Maybe we better find a gag, I don’t think this town is ready for me.”
He laughed again and once more her breasts tightened, growing heavy with need. “Us, baby. Not sure it is ready for us. Oh god, the things I want to do to you.” He turned the key and the car roared to life just as her body was. “So tell me your limits while you play with yourself.”
“Limits? I don’t have many. The really disgusting stuff. No kids. No incest. No crap, and I mean quite literally. No piss either. And of course, no dead people or animals,” she said as her fingers danced across her swollen clit. She knew that first dates were not supposed to go like this, but then again she really did not care. After her long dry spell she would take her relief wherever she found it.
“What about anal?” he asked as he took one hand off the steering wheel. She noticed he used it to adjust his cock that was bulging down one leg of his pants. He moaned a bit as if it hurt.
“From the look of things in your pants, I’m not so sure. I have done it, but never with anything that big.”
He nodded, “It’ll just take some time, get you good and worked up. Stretch that sweet ass out with a plug for a while as I eat your pussy. I think you’ll be surprised at how good my cock will feel up your tight ass. Exhibitionism? What if I wanted to fuck you under the bleachers at the school? Or out in a field somewhere? What if I pulled over right now? Would you climb over here and ride my hard cock?”
She shoved her fingers deep inside as she moaned, “Yes, oh god, yes.”
Instead his hand covered hers, pulling it from between her thighs. “I told you not to come. Only my fingers, my tongue. My cock. Are going to give you pleasure from now on.”
She shook her head, “I don’t understand. What do you mean from now on?”
He smiled as he pulled up in front of a two story wood frame house on the outskirts of town. He sucked her fingers inside of his mouth, licking her juices once more. “Come on. I want to show you something.” He opened his door and walked around to hers. She shook her head. This was not how a date was supposed to go, not a first date.
Of course, how could she blame Simon when she had been the one that told him he could feed her after he fucked her? But maybe she had been rash, Maybe she should just call the hole thing off. He opened her door, “Don’t worry, sweetheart. Everything is going to be fine now. I promise.”
He held out his large hand and for the life of her, Juliette wanted to believe him. Wanted to think that for once everything would be all right. She numbly took his hand and followed him up to steps to the wide porch that wrapped about the house. Dozens of questions assailed her mind but her tongue was too thick to form a single word.
He stood back and ushered her into his home. Looking around once more she was struck at how out of her league this man was. The place was perfectly decorated, immaculately cleaned. He closed the door. The soft click sounded like a resounding boom and she jumped. His hands took hers, cocooning them in warmth. She looked up into his handsome face, felt cherished and protected somehow. Although she was alone with a man she barely knew she could not remember the last time she had felt this safe. Perhaps never.
“Follow me,” he purred as he led her down the hall. She smiled when she noticed the toys strewn about what was obviously the family room. “Pardon the mess, but Bobby can never find anything if I put them away.”
Hello all my dear friends and listeners ~
I hope you are all well. I am deeply sorry to any of you who have not gotten a response from me. I was in the hospital for a few days. I’m fine and healthy and horny as ever. But I am a bit overwhelmed with my life and promise you I have read every single message and comment written to me and I am so thankful for all your support, kind words, and very naughty notes and pictures! I hope you enjoy this little fantasy of mine. I know it’s not original, but still so fucking hot.
And as always…Enjoy!
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Click Here to listen. (18 min/mp3)
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Gulf Shores, Alabama has got to be paradise. At least for me. Every year, my sister, Anna and I come here and spend a couple of weeks soaking up the sun and having a good time. Well, now that’s not completely true. I have fun. Anna hardly ever goes outside the beach house She brings BOOKS on vacation. I mean, who does that? I love her so much, she tries to look out for me, but she just doesn’t understand. I’m in my PRIME. I’ve got to have my fun while I’m still gorgeous. Now that Anna isn’t pretty. A little stiff maybe but she’s one sexy lady. I wish she’d show it off more. Those clothes she wears do nothing to show off her figure. She’s shaped like a model, all tall and willowy. Her legs are amazing. I’ve always envied her legs. And she has naturally blonde hair without a hint of gray, even at forty years old. Of course, it’s always up on top of her head. She really needs to let her hair down…literally! And her skin is unreal. Like porcelain. Pale and smooth and perfect. Maybe that’s why she doesn’t do much sunbathing. I just think she needs to date. She’s so picky. I think she’s had two boyfriends her whole life. Of course, she went out with them forever. I wonder…did they even have sex? I just can’t imagine Anna doing the nasty with ol’ Howard or Ed. They were good guys, but they seemed just as stuffy as Anna.
I kind of made it my mission to break her out of her prudish ways. I also like to shock her with my tales of sexual depravity. Oh, when I told her about that cute frat boy from the beach house down the street…I thought she was going to faint. He was a blast though. I told her all the kinky things I did to that boy. Breastfeeding him, sucking him with my own milk in my mouth. He fucked me so good. I hope he comes back sometime before we go back home. I could use another helping of that pretty boy.
I just feel so bad for Anna. She’s stuck in her room again tonight. Poor dear.
(listen in for the rest of the story)
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Click Here to listen. (23 min/mp3)
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Hi. I’m Gerlinde. My husband Roger – as well as most everybody else who knows me – calls me Geri.
I understand that some time ago Roger related here his perception of an encounter we experienced while vacationing in the Caribbean. I’d like to tell you how I remember that same unforgettable day Roger and I spent while on vacation not too long ago. But, just in case you haven’t read his story, let me introduce ourselves and give you some background.
We have a decent lifestyle. Roger is an attorney with a successful law firm in Westchester County, New York. Having been born in Germany, I am fluent in both English and German and use my bilingual ability as a division manager with a German manufacturing company in nearby Connecticut. Although no longer “spring chickens”, we’ve managed to have kept in good shape with me doing yoga, playing tennis and bicycle riding together with Roger whenever the weather permits. Depending upon the season Roger is an active squash, basketball and softball player and whatever exercise machines we have at our disposal get used on a regular basis.
Early each autumn, when the New York weather starts to become gray and depressing, we celebrate our anniversary by taking a break in the warmth of our favorite Caribbean island paradise Dominica, We discovered a cottage resort which while offering all the amenities, excellent cuisine and a comprehensive wine list, is actually quite affordable.
I met roger almost 19 years ago some time after each of us had gotten divorced. The chemistry between us was instantaneously magical. Corny as it may sound it was story-book love-at-first-sight. We quickly became inseparable and were married within a few months. I really value our marriage, and so does Roger. And, as I respect my marriage vows and love Roger, I’ve had no interest in any other man since we met. I’m absolutely sure Roger has been equally faithful. Our 18 year marriage has been wonderful – growing and mellowing through the years – never becoming stale and boring. We share many tastes, activities, beliefs, opinions, and I’m convinced we are truly “best friends”.
Our lovemaking is certainly satisfying although I prefer quality to quantity and normality to experimentation. While I suppose I enjoy sex as much as the next person, and understand that it’s not necessarily for procreation only, it has never really been a major priority for me in our marriage. We have so very much going for us together outside our bedroom. I assume that like most men Roger might like to have sex more often but we do have a rather busy life style and are often too tired at the end of the day. The intimacy and familiarity Roger and I share plus the fact that we have not turned our lovemaking into a routine more than makes up for that.
Actually when it comes to sex Roger likes to watch. He watches sex on the TV – something I find to be a turn-off – he watches sex on the computer, as all men he likes to look at other women, but most of all (I’m happy to say) he likes to watch me. I probably disappoint him somewhat in this department as I am anything but an exhibitionist. I dress quite conservatively, never go without a bra and refuse to publically show off in any way what I’ve been told is considered to be quite a decent figure. I won’t even go skinny dipping in the privacy of our secluded, tree enclosed, backyard pool unless there is no moon and all the lights are out. It took several years for me to permit a dim light to be turned on in the bedroom while we were being intimate. Roger has hinted at taking photos of me and even videos of us when we were in bed. Just for his own voyeuristic amusement of course. It took a while but I think it finally sunk in that this was never going to happen!
I do enjoy an occasional glass of wine, in very limited amounts, and have no interest in any recreational drugs. Having been brought up in a conservative home environment where we respected social propriety I have this need to remain in control of myself. In all – I’m a very private, very reserved, person. Roger has even laughingly said – “How can I be this much in love with such a repressed prude!” So when Roger mentioned this absurd fantasy of his, that of watching me with another person, I said “Die Gedanken sind frei” – Your thoughts are free. In addition I told him to dream on as there was not even the remotest possibility of that ever happening! If this makes me a sexually repressed prude so be it!
Our much anticipated romantic vacation in the Caribbean this past fall was unbelievable! Excellent food, superb wines, fantastic weather – mid 80′s each day with mid 70′s at night with only the expected occasional brief afternoon sprinkle. Delightful bike rides; hiking through the forest enjoying the waterfalls; calm soothing surf with super snorkeling, clean white beaches with soft sand, and surprisingly good shopping in town. Roger bought me a lovely pair of hand made sandals made right there kin the store. Not only did we have fun but we really enjoyed each other’s company!
With only a couple of days vacation left we decided to hang out on the beach, reading, sipping some drinks, nibbling some food, snorkeling and splashing about in the quite cool turquoise Caribbean surf.
Roger and I were reading and chatting about nothing in particular when a kind of handsome looking fellow about our age, who was reclining on the lounge chair next to ours, came over to us. He excused himself and introduced himself to us as Kurt. He asked if I could possibly be from Germany as he had apparently detected my German accent. This accompanied by my pale complexion, blond hair and blue eyes was basically a giveaway.
Kurt was the vice president of some prominent German pharmaceutical company, whose name I forget. He was by himself on one of his numerous business trips enjoying a brief weekend stopover checking a small chemical company here on the island before heading on to the U.S. Coincidently, it turned out both he and I were originally from Regensburg, a small city in Bavaria. We chatted for awhile reminiscing about our years growing up in Bavaria basically around the same time. Then, as I was having trouble keeping my eyes open, we made a date to continue our conversation and get better acquainted later that evening over dinner. Roger and I excused ourselves and went to our cottage for a nap.
Dinner was delightful. Roger and Kurt hit it off very well. Each had a great sense of humor and apparently shared many interests in common. The three of us seemed to kindle a warm friendly relationship almost immediately. Kurt was extremely pleasant and possessed that certain debonair charm which many European men seem to have. Naturally Kurt was also fluent in German and Roger can understand a bit. Although we did from time to time talk about our lives while living in Germany we kept the conversation in English so as not to exclude Roger. The meal was excellent as was the wine. Roger had ordered a couple of bottles of a delightful German Riesling as I recall. After dinner we strolled out to the pool and sat finishing our wine. Eventually we bid each other goodnight, and went our separate ways back to our own cottages.
The next day was sadly our last. After a late breakfast Roger and I went beachcombing holding hands as we strolled down the beach hunting for shells. Later in the day we went to our usual spot on the hotel’s beach for an afternoon of loafing in the sun. Kurt happened by and we all ordered drinks and tapas to nibble on as we continued the pleasant relationship the three of us had started the previous evening.
Then suddenly it hit! The skies darkened accompanied by a fierce gusting wind as a torrential downpour accompanied by thunder and lightning came out of nowhere drenching us. We grabbed all our stuff and went scrambling to Kurt’s place – as his was closest to the beach. When we got there the AC was on full blast. I’m not a big fan of air-conditioning in the first place, and since I was soaking wet I was uncomfortably chilled. At Kurt’s suggestion I rushed shivering into the bathroom to get out of my wet bathing suit. I dried off, put on one of the plush ankle length terrycloth robes the hotel supplied, and wrapped a towel over my sopping hair. Roger followed me in and also slipped into a robe.
The sky was an eerie greenish-black and the thunder was still rumbling on when we went back out to the dimly lit room – now thankfully without the AC. Kurt, dressed in shorts and T-shirt, offered us each a nice warming glass of Asbach Uralt – a German brandy – which is usually too strong for me but I was freezing – and some German chocolates. Roger and Kurt sat in the chairs and I curled up on the high king size bed. Apparently this wasn’t to be the brief passing shower we had hoped for as the rain and thunder showed no sign of letting up. So as we waited out the storm we made idle conversation, sipped our brandy, nibbled the chocolates, tried to figure out how far the storm was from us by counting the seconds between the lightning flashes and the thunder claps and listened to the soft music coming from somewhere in the background.
Kurt explained that his position with his company plus his expertise in chemistry required that he oversee the organization’s foreign facilities on a fairly regular basis. He said that when he told his wife of this latest overseas trip she was really annoyed saying that she had tolerated these trips of his for years and had finally had enough. She wanted something done about his business travels which she felt were far too frequent and kept him away from her for extended periods of time. Other than her behaving somewhat distant towards him he had no reason to suspect anything but he would understand that if perhaps she was feeling abandoned she might have found someone to “fill in the time” while he had been away. He doubted anything like that had happened as this wouldn’t be at all like her. Whatever, he hadn’t given up on their marriage and had remained faithful since their discussion. Their relationship was cordial but cool, still sleeping in the same bed, albeit without much in the way of physical contact. Kurt realized she was right but still felt confident that there would be a reconciliation when he returned to Germany from this trip as his wife was obviously pleased when he told her just before he left that he had instructed his company that he was severely limiting any future travels. He called her every evening and she seemed to be in far better spirits. I don’t remember much more as I apparently dozed off.
I have no idea how long I was asleep or what the guys were chatting about during my nap but the storm was still raging outside when I awoke – with a kink in my neck. I guess this was rather obvious to them by the way I was trying to stretch my neck. I sat up on the bed securely wrapped in my long robe which covered me from my chin to my feet which were dangling over the side. Roger asked if I was OK and when I mentioned my neck Kurt told us that his wife was a massage therapist and as he had acquired some knowledge of massage methods perhaps he could be of assistance.
He asked if it would be acceptable to us. I thought it would a great idea and Roger having no objection Kurt came over and knelt behind to me on the bed. He began to knead the muscles of my neck and upper back. He might have been a pseudo massage therapist but his hands and massage technique felt wonderful. He took the towel off my now dry and curly blond hair, put my now empty brandy glass on the night table, and adjusted the robe a bit so he could get better access to my neck and shoulders. Since I was completely naked beneath the robe I kept my hands tightly clutching the collar and holding the front of the robe together carefully avoiding exposing any myself.
Even after the minor spasm in my neck was gone for some reason I didn’t tell Kurt and let him continue his soothing massage. Except, although he hadn’t done anything differently, and perhaps it was my imagination, but it seemed as if his massage was progressing from soothing to titillating. I’m sure I blushed as I realized his touch was becoming – I guess the best way to describe how it began to feel to me was – almost sensual. Other than my husband and a doctor in the sterile environment of an examination room no man had touched this much of me in almost two decades!
I can only guess why I did this but as Kurt’s massage continued I rolled my shoulders around “accidently” letting the robe slip off my shoulders just a bit and slide down revealing the tops my un-suntanned white breasts! Surprisingly – well, perhaps not so surprisingly! – Roger just sat there saying nothing.
I don’t know why, maybe it was the drinks we had earlier while basking in the warmth of the sun on the beach, maybe the brandy, maybe the soft warm lighting coming from a single lamp in the corner, maybe the music playing softly (it was ABBA’s “Andante”, a song Roger and I always found to very sexually evocative) maybe sitting on a bed with some charming stranger massaging my bare shoulders – who knows – but I did something totally foreign to my entire nature. Hesitantly, almost as if I was in a dream, I let my hands slowly fall into my lap allowing the robe to slide off my arms and follow my hands down into my lap. I was now naked to the waist presenting my bare breasts to some stranger. At that very moment I think perhaps I was so caught up in the expectation of what might possibly take place between Kurt and myself that it didn’t register on me that what was doing was actually improper.
I really wasn’t sure how far either Roger or I would allow things to progress in this surreal atmosphere.
Fortunately Kurt didn’t rush things. Roger has always been tender and attentive to me physically. As I mentioned earlier his pleasure is derived from my pleasure. Kurt was apparently equally gentle – just different. If he had then started to paw me I would have gotten up and stopped things right then and there. But he just gently stroked my sensitive skin up and down my arms and across my neck, back and shoulders coming closer and closer to my now exposed breasts rising and falling with each excited breath. When he finally got close to touching me there I shied away and tried to bring the robe up to cover myself. Kurt whispered in my ear – “Das ist schön gut. Sie sind sehr schön. Und du weißt du willst mich um dich zu berühren!” (This is very good. You are very beautiful. And you know you want me to touch you!)
Even before he did touch me there I could feel my nipples stiffening. I leaned back against Kurt and offered no objection when he cradled my ample pale breasts letting their weight rest softly in the palms of his suntanned hands. As he massaged my breasts and ever so gently pinched my sensitive nipples I couldn’t help but to respond. I sighed, closed my eyes and let his caresses continue to arouse me as the exquisite sensations traveled from my breasts downwards and I became aware that I was uncontrollably becoming moist between my legs. My determination to be completely faithful to our marriage was rapidly melting away.
I looked over at Roger. He simply smiled. Apparently he was OK with all of this. Once again Kurt whispered to me in German quietly suggesting that I lie back on the bed and relax. I looked at Roger for his approval although I’m not sure that at this point it would have mattered much as Kurt was slowly, tantalizingly bringing me to a point from which I could never turn back. Roger almost imperceptibly nodded just once. Then, as I mouthed “I do love you!”, I closed my eyes and let Kurt lower me onto my back on the bed.
I remember the music filtering into the room and will always associate that song with the tender seduction I now anxiously hoped would continue. Frida’s plaintive voice was echoing my every emotion, my every wish – Take it easy with my please. Touch me gently like a summer evening breeze. Take your time, make it slow. Andante, Andante, just let the feeling grow. Make your fingers soft and light. Let your body be the velvet of the night. Touch my soul, you know how. Andante, Andante, go slowly with me now. Please don’t talk, go on play. Andante, Andante, and let me float away.
And everything Kurt did was indeed beautifully slow and gentle and soft and velvety and I felt as if I was actually floating as he continued to fondle my breasts and nipples with his hands as he had been before but now also with caresses of his lips and with his tongue making teasing circles around my erect dark pink nipples.
His hand wandered further down my body until he found the belt of the robe. Undoing the belt he softly folded back the white terrycloth completely exposing my pale nakedness. Incomprehensibly I did nothing to stop him. I actually helped him remove the robe from beneath me so that my paleness was now framed in a stark contrast upon the dark green of the bed.
Kurt’s hand delightfully traced increasingly wider circular patterns on my sensitive belly until he reached my almost hairless puffy mound. An electric thrill ran through me as he briefly touched me there and ran the tips of his fingers teasingly up and down the inside of my thighs — something that has always excited me. And then, though I knew what undoubtedly was to happen next, as he just barely touched my already parting and now very moist lips, I couldn’t help myself – I gasped and reflexively clamped my thighs together and tried to cover myself with my hands. Kurt caught my hands in mid flight and as he placed them back by my sides on the bed he whispered in my ear, – “Sie wissen, dass Sie das wollen. Wir alle wollen diese.” (You know you want this. We all want this!”)
Suddenly the meaning of what Kurt said dawned on me. I realized that Roger had left his chair and that apparently he had been sitting on the bed next to us. He had been watching all that had taken place so far and would be watching all that was inevitably about to take place between Kurt and myself. His face was flushed; he was breathing rapidly and was clearly aroused. Had he actually discussed his wild fantasy with Kurt?!
At this point I was far too aroused myself to resist or care to attempt to prevent what was about to happen. So I sighed, closed my eyes and permitted Kurt to move my thighs apart. Shamelessly exposing myself to the eyes of both men and inviting the touch of this stranger, I allowed him to spread my thighs wider and wider – something that barely twenty minutes ago would have been absolutely unthinkable to me. I recall I cried out when at long last he touched my swollen clitoris sending exquisite shivers through my body. I offered no resistance as I let him explore my sex and further excite me with his wonderfully talented fingers. I remember hearing some throaty sounds and realizing these were surprisingly coming from me as Kurt continued to delicately stroke my pouting wet lips and clitoris and eventually easily slipped his fingers inside me.
Suddenly everything stopped. Kurt was gone from my side. But then, thankfully, he reappeared kneeling between my open thighs. And then I experienced the thrilling caresses of his warm mouth. I placed my hand gently on his head and ran my fingers through his graying wavy blond hair. The sensations of his lips and tongue flickering and gliding over and over my swollen clitoris and now parted inner lips and open vagina were nothing short of electric. When he gently squeezed my tender clitoris between his lips I ecstatically let a moan escape from deep in my throat and pressed him closer to me. I don’t know how much longer I could have lasted had he continued to arouse me this way.
Fortunately Kurt realized my urgency as he silently stood, removed his T-shirt and shorts, and placed his swollen member at my moist and invitingly open vagina. And then he paused. I stared up at him through half closed eyes wonderingly. His soft blue-grey eyes met mine as he looked down at me with a look as if he was asking my permission to continue. Trembling, I closed my eyes and sighed but one single word – “Yes!” This was more than permission – it was as if I was pleading for him to make love to me. That euphemism is not quite accurate. Love had nothing to do with it! I wanted him to fuck me! (A word I never use but I have no other way to describe my intense pent up sexual desire which up until this point in my life had almost always included an emotional level not just merely physical.) This man I barely knew – someone I had met only the day before – was about to do something to me so private, so special, that it had been reserved exclusively for only one person, my husband, for the past 18 years. And not only was I so lost in the sexual excitement of the moment as to be incapable of turning back but I was excitedly, passionately, anxiously begging him to be inside me – to actually have some stranger perform with me this, the ultimate act of intimacy between man and woman.
Note to readers: Like all my other stories this is written from a woman’s perspective, so its about a woman being with a woman.
We are lying on the bed; there is a soft glow peeking in through the curtains from the early sun. The blankets feel warm from our body heat and are tucked snuggly around our bodies. I’m trying to resist moving while I’m on my side, one knee bent, and you’re behind me your leg tucked up behind mine, your warm body pressed to my back. I can feel your breasts, the nipples hard and budding against my skin. I smile and sigh softly my eyes still closed. I can smell your perfume, still on your skin from the night before. Your hand is on my leg, slowly brushing back and forth from my knee to my hip. Your nails graze softly against the skin and I repress a moan as my toes curl involuntarily under the tickling touch. I can feel your breath on my skin, fluttering my hair slightly by my neck. You bring your lips down, kissing me softly on my shoulder, leaving a soft, damp kiss on my skin. I squirm slightly, my arse pushing against your groin as I feel desire start to burn low in my belly.
Your hand comes up again, this time passing my hip and slipping around my stomach, you tuck your arm in, pulling us closer together. I can feel the heat of your pussy, seeping into my skin, and your smooth skin moving against mine with your every breath.
You bring your lips to my ear “Good morning sweetheart.” I can feel your soft lips graze the sensitive skin as you whisper. I shudder slightly as I snuggle back into your embrace.
“Good morning darling.” I reply, resting my hand over yours at my stomach. I intertwine our fingers, enjoying the sensual feel of our fingers sliding together. You kiss my neck again, this time administering a small nip, which has me tilting my head, exposing my neck to you. I hear you chuckle softly against my skin as you kiss and lick the spot you have bitten before slowly moving upwards. You untangle your fingers from mine and using only a slight pressure as you shuffle back, I roll onto my back, looking up at you. The blanket slips down, exposing my large breasts, the nipples budded and hard, begging for your touch.
You look down at me, your hair messy around your face from sleep. Your eyelids are heavy and there is a definite pout to your lips that I find irresistible. My eyes flicker from your lips to your breasts, now much closer to my face, I moan slightly as I watch your nipples bud and harden under my gaze. I can’t resist and I raise my hand, caressing your breast, cupping it softly in my hand as I brush my thumb over the sensitive tip. You smile at me, as you mimic my action, bringing your hand to my breast, cupping the heavy weight before brushing your thumb over the nipple.
I shudder slightly, feeling my nipples start to harden until they ache. I arch my back slightly, silently begging for more. You raise your eyebrows at me, you mouth pulling into a wicked smile. I reach up brushing your hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear, before cupping your jaw, letting my thumb graze across your bottom lip.
“Make me feel good darling.” You shake your head slightly, unhappy with my request. You graze my nipple again with your thumb, teasingly, not giving me what I need. I move again with your touch, my hand squeezing your breast softly in reflex to my own desire.
“Will have to do better than that.” You tell me and I raise my eyes to yours, locking them on your face.
“I want you to suck my nipples, eat my cunt, make me cum.” I force out, fighting the blush I know is threating my cheeks. I watch you smile, its full of wicked promise and I can feel my pussy start to ache, grow wet in anticipation. You capture the nipple you’ve been playing with, squeezing it hard, tugging on it, until I whimper in pleasure.
“Mmm… good girl. You will eat my cunt too, wont you?” I nod, consenting to your terms. You brush my hand aside, quickly coming up over me. You kiss me, your tongue brushing the seam of my lips and I open my mouth to you unthinking. Your tongue slips inside, brushing mine. I moan as I start to kiss you back, my hand snaking up to capture your head, my fingers running through your soft hair. Your lips are so soft, and I can feel your nose softly brushing my face as you move against me. I arch towards you, knowing my pussy is greedy for your touch. Breaking the kiss you move your body, climbing astride my waist, your smooth thighs feel slick as they slide against my waist, your knees tucking in around my ribs as your pussy is opened, wet and hot against my stomach. We both moan as you adjust yourself, your pussy lips grazing and slipping against my skin.
I look up at you; you look beautiful above me, your body bathed in the early morning light. Your body naturally moves, your hips rolling slightly, unable to resist your own pleasure. I bring my hands up, catching your waist on both sides before pulling you forward. I lean up slightly until I can capture one of your nipples in my mouth. I close my eyes, holding you still as I suck softly. Hearing you moan I suck a bit harder, letting my teeth graze the tip before capturing it and using my tongue to flick and rub the nipple. Finally I let go, planting soft, open mouth kisses across the valley of your breasts, coming to the other side where I provide the same treatment for the other nipple, I let my hand slip to your back, catching you at your spine, so I can more easily feast on your breasts. I let my free hand come up and capture the wet, sensitive nipple, squeezing it firmly; I start to tug it in time with my mouth. Your hands brush my head, pressing me closer to you. You’re moaning softly now and as I break free and draw back slightly, I look up at you, making eye contact, I blow softly on your wet, glistening nipple. I moan softly watching your eyes darken with pleasure.
I feel your hands start to lace in my hair, I moan softly, unsure where you’re taking this. Once you have a firm hold you tug my head back, so I’m looking directly up at you. My lips part, suddenly dry and I let my tongue slip out to wet the full bottom lip. You smile at me, in this knowing way as you slowly lean forward, planting a firm, open mouth kiss on my lips. I feel your tongue push aggressively into my mouth and helplessly groan as you start to fuck my mouth with your tongue. Pulling back you look up at me, so close now I can feel your breath puffing and breaking over my skin. You let go of my hair, pushing me back slightly onto the pillows. I watch as you lift yourself up onto your knees, then onto one foot on the mattress, with your knee bent your wet cunt is totally exposed to me. I lick my lips, remembering the musky, sweet taste from the night before. I watch transfixed as you bring your hand down, slowly over your body until it’s resting on your inner thigh. You run your fingers up and down the pouting pussy lips, they’re already swollen and pouting open, coated in your juices. I sigh, my hands itching to touch my own aching pussy.
You slowly spread your lips, exposing your sweet, pink pussy to me. As I watch, you start to slowly rub your clit, almost lazily. I shift between your legs, feeling my own desire spike as your head drops back and you let out a low moan. You look so divine kneeling over me, open and so inviting. I start to lean up, but your eyes open and with just a look you make me lay back down. I continue to watch as you leave your clit and trail your fingers down to you wet cunt, I moan, anticipating what is about to come. My eyes lock on your fingers and I watch as you slowly toy with your entrance, deliberately coating your fingers in your own juices. You then ever so slowly slide two fingers in, until you’ve taken them to the third knuckle. My legs come together, rubbing against one another as my desire rises. Helplessly I watch as you start to fuck your pussy, slow, relaxed I can see your juices coating your fingers, making them reflect the light as you slide them in and out of yourself. Your free hand is on your breasts, playing and teasing with your nipples, your head is rolled back, your eyes closed, as you get lost in the sensation. I chew my bottom lip, knowing I won’t last much longer.
Noticing your total lack of attention to me, I slowly shuffle forward, before sitting up. I slip my hands around your arse, grasping a cheek in each hand and before you can stop me, I lean forward and nuzzling past your hand as it works in your wet cunt I press a soft kiss to your clit. You moan and your hand drops from your breast, cupping the nap of my neck you bring me closer to you, as I suck your clit into my mouth, flicking my tongue across the sensitive bud. You continue to caress my head, as your moans become more insistent. I start to flick your clit with my tongue, nuzzling you opens with my chin and nose so I can get better access. Using me for balance you start to roll your hips against my face, and I drop my hand to my own aching pussy, seeking out my clit, as you get closer to cumming. I moan into your pussy as my fingers brush my clit, rubbing it quickly and hard to ease the ache there. Your fingers start to tighten in my hair and your breathing gets short, sharp as you approach your orgasm.
I suck harder on your clit, mercilessly flicking it with my tongue. I move my other hand, bringing it to your cunt; I drag your fingers out and quickly slide in my own two, thrusting them quickly into your slick cunt. You groan your slick fingers dropping to my shoulder as you brace yourself over me, pulling me hard with your other hand against you. As I breathe in on every short breath I can smell you, musky, intoxicating. I keep thrusting and I can feel your clit start to shift under my tongue, you’re so close.
“Ohh, I’m… I’m…” You pant before your explode, contracting around my fingers, dragging them deeper into your wet pussy. I continue to thrust, feeling your juices pooling in my palm as I keep licking your clit, dragging every last wave a pleasure from you. I feel your hand start to relax in my hair and I tilt back, drawing in big shuddering breaths. Your face is relaxed, your eye lids heavy as you look down at me. You stroke my hair softly, embracing me to your stomach for a moment before leaning me back. I slowly draw my fingers from your pussy, looking at them totally coated in your juices. You watch me as I slowly bring them to my lips and suck them clean. You moan as I lick my lips, catching any trace of your juices.
You shift back, spotting my hand on my pussy, lowly rubbing my clit. Planting your hand on my stomach you guide me back, as you sink into the gap between my legs. You nudge them further apart, moaning softly as my pussy lips part, exposing my slick and pouting pussy lips, my fingers as they slowly work my clit. You slide forward onto your stomach, and look up at me past my body.
“You are just lovely,” you tell me as your eyes return to my pussy. I blush a little, feeling exposed. You slowly run your hands up my thighs, pushing my legs even further apart. When your hands reach my inner thighs, framing my pussy, I can feel your breath on my lips, and I shiver. You watch as I continue to play, my hips shifting slightly as I build towards my own orgasm. I hear you breath in deeply, knowing I had done something similar not moments before, I feel myself get wetter imagining what you are experiencing. I reach out with my free hand, cupping your face. You look up and smile at me; it’s so sweet I return it. You release my thigh with one of your hands, and slowly slip it under your body. I see your arse move up as you shift half onto your knees before you lay back down. You raise your hand to me; my breath catches as I realize why you are showing me. I can see as your hand shifts that you’ve coated them in your juices, now thick and glossy, they cover two of your fingers and as you separate them I can see strings of your juices hang between them. I shudder knowing what is going to happen next.
Kissing my inner thigh you whisper, “So I will be able to taste us both.”
I keep watching you as you bring your hand down, your free hand parting my lips as you slowly slide your two fingers inside. I easily take them to the third knuckle and we both moan my walls milk them in response. You start to slowly thrust them in and out of me, still watching as you encourage me to continue playing with my clit. I can feel your hair tickling my legs as you work your fingers in me. Your breath is coming out in short puffs, blowing over my slick and sensitive skin. I can feel the sheets starting to stick to my sweat pricked skin. I bring my free hand up to capture my nipple, firmly tugging and pulling it. A moan passes my lips and your eyes flicker up my body.
“Suck on the other one.” You demand, as you push your fingers deeply into me and start to roll them in a ‘come here’ fashion. I release my clit, whimpering softly as I bring my hand up to my other breast, moving it so I can capture the nipple. I bite and suck on it, in time with my other nipple. I moan around it as I feel your fingers spreading me, a second before your hot breath brushes over my clit and you take it into your mouth, sucking softly. I can feel your soft lips brushing against my hot skin as you position your tongue. I groan deeply in my throat as I feel your teeth nip my clit. I close my eyes, imagining your pussy for the taking, waiting to be sucked and touched. I imagine your breasts, your nipples in my mouth as I suck them deeply. You continue to thrust in and out of me, faster now, I am helplessly groaning on every breath. The images move faster in my mind, spinning as I drop my hand from my tender nipple, catching the nap of your neck, pushing your face closer to my hungry cunt. I can hear the clicking of your fingers as they move faster in and out of me. I can feel my orgasm rising, closer I suck harder on my nipple, imagining its yours, deep in my mouth hard, begging to be sucked. I let go of my nipple suddenly, letting my head fall back, my eyes shut as I let out the first scream as I cum, rolling over me my body rocks against yours.
You keep licking my clit, pushing your fingers in and out of me, making me take as much of my orgasm as possible. I feel myself coming down and release your head, letting you up as my body runs over with goose bumps. Slowly you climb up my body, until you lay fully against me, breast to breast with me. You genteelly tuck my hair from my flushed face, resting your forehead to mine. You drop a light kiss to my lips and I can taste myself there.
“That was wonderful.” You whisper softly against my lips. I smile softly at you “Yes, it was.” I close my eyes, feeling sleep slip over me, as you roll off me I cuddle up behind you, feeling our cooling, damp bodies pressed against one another I slip my hand around your waist tucking you close to me. I breath in smelling your shampoo and perfume mixed with the smell of our sex, smiling I snuggle down and drift to sleep.
The floozy walked in the door first, all big hair and tight polyester dress. Her boobs spilled out everywhere and I could hear her clunky, high heels even thought they were hidden by the couch. She had a lit cigarette dangling between her lips and began unwrapping herself and throwing everything on the couch haphazardly: coat, scarf, cheap glittery gold purse. He was right behind her.
“You can’t smoke in here,” I said, looking up from my book.
“Who the fuck is she?” the floozy slurred to Him, turning around and ignoring my presence.
“This is the one I told you about, remember?” He said, removing His own coat. “Listen, do you want another drink?”
“Yeah. You got any, like, Smirnoff Ice or some shit like that?” she asked.
“No, no, none of that. I can make you a cosmopolitan. How does that sound?”
“Great,” she chirped. She sat on the couch, playing with her phone, ignoring me like I wasn’t even there.
He hadn’t said it yet, but I think I knew what was going on. I got up from the chair and put a bookmark in my book. I followed Him into the den where He was busy making the drink at the bar. His back was to me but He knew I was there.
“Stop,” He said, shaking the cocktail before straining it into a glass.
“Yes, Sir.” I replied.
“I see you’re wearing appropriate attire. Good girl,” He muttered. He must have seen I was wearing what He asked me to when I walked around the house: stockings, garters, no panties or bra. If I’m cold—and it certainly was cold outside—I could wear a blanket but am not allowed to wear more clothes.
He turned around, holding the drink. “Present,” He said.
I turned around, bent over at the waist, and spread my ass so He could see His holes. I knew he was inspecting me, seeing if my pussy was smoothly shaved, checking out the dark stockings on my legs.
“Thank you, pet. Follow me,” He said, and I began walking behind him as we left the den.
“No, no. On your knees.”
“Yes, Sir.” I got on my knees behind him, a burning pit in my stomach as some floozy, some skank in a cheap polyester dress was going to see me on my hands and knees, roaming around. She could look at my tits and see my pussy and I didn’t want to show those things to her. But He asked, so I did it.
“What’s this?” she asked as He returned. I trailed along behind on my hands and knees, eyes down as I’d been taught.
“Pretend like she’s not here, okay?” He asked her.
“What does that mean?” She asked, still playing with her phone and glancing sideways at me.
“Oh, you’ll get the hang of it,” He winked
They talked and giggled, all the while ignoring me, the almost-naked woman kneeling at their feet.
Talking soon lead to kissing and the room was filled with smacking lip sounds and uncomfortable silence as this harlot got to enjoy Sir while I had to sit and watch. Soon, Sir took His shirt off. The floozy got up, unzipped her dress to reveal pink panties and no bra and what seemed like gallons of spray tan everywhere.
She sat back down on the couch and He began kissing His way down her body, hands all over her pink panties, lightly rubbing the pussy underneath. He slid down until He was between her legs, on His knees, removing her panties. I was still on my knees, inches away from Him.
I burned with anger and envy at this pleasure I did not get to enjoy from Him. He did not tenderly lick my pussy or worship my clit, yet some cheap girl with big hair from the bar gets to enjoy this? I was seething and looked away. Somehow he knew.
“Don’t you dare take your eyes of me, understand?” He said sharply, turning around to look at me directly.
“Yes, Sir, I understand,” I quietly said back and again watched him.
He slowly and lazily licked her clit while His finger slowly massaged the lips of her pussy, feeling the tight skin, feeling her wetness grow. She moaned and clamped her eyes shut. Her back arched and relaxed as waves of gentle tongue strokes drove her deeper and deeper into pleasure.
Soon the intensity grew and His tongue was swiftly working her over, driving her mad, while two fingers curled inside her pussy. She was flushed, her pussy dripping wet, and her hips were jerking and swaying without grace. I knew she was going to come soon.
“Oh, fuck, baby! I’m gonna come!” she yelled and I could see her hips twitch and spasm as He licked her through her orgasm.
My cheeks burned even redder and hotter. She got to just come when she wants and gets to enjoy the pleasures of a someone eating her pussy.I had to beg and cajole for each and every orgasm. I never got these things, these tender sensations, and I’m the one He loves!
I set my jaw, angry. I didn’t dare defy His wishes, however, and my eyes remained glued to their bodies.
“Clean this,” He said, holding His fingers out to me, covered in her pussy juice.
“Yes, Sir,” I replied and went about licking His fingers clean, feeling angry and humiliated. Her pussy tasted strong and sharp, but she was juicy. It took me some time to lick it all off.
“You may sit on your butt if your feet are going numb. But you must not take your eyes off me. Understood?” He asked me. I nodded and said I shifted around to get blood flowing in my legs again. My eyes remained on them.
“Lemme see that big dick of yours!” the floozy slurred, clumsily trying to sit up. He obliged and dropped His pants, releasing His firm and lovely cock, the cock I cleaned and worshiped.
She gave Him some halfhearted sucks before He pushed her back on the couch, spread her legs forcefully, and slowly slid His length into her deep, tight pussy, skillfully massaging her inside.
I fucking hated this girl.
He slowly built up speed as she moaned. Her eyes were closed and I couldn’t tell if this was pleasure or if she was on the verge of passing out. But the moans heightened as He fucked her harder and harder, moving towards His own orgasm. I knew He was close because I knew him.
He reached down and lightly fingered her clit as He continued.
“Can you come again for me, baby?” He asked.
“Fuuuckh yeaaah…” she groaned and her moans became squeals until suddenly she was bucking wildly underneath Him again. He moaned loudly and stared at her face as she came. I didn’t dare look away.
“I’m going to come in my girl’s mouth, okay?” He said. She nodded lazily and He pulled out and walked over to me.
“Present mouth,” He said and I scrambled to get into position, kneeling, mouth wide open.
I was afraid, angry, and confused. My pussy burned and dripped, my nipples hard and longing. I was pissed but He presented me with the most lovely gift: His rock-hard cock with the greatest humiliation as if was covered in some floozy’s pussy juice.
“You will suck this clean and you will swallow every drop of come from both of us. Understand?”
I nodded, mouth still open. I wasn’t sure if she was watching this unfold, but I wanted to do what he said. He entered my mouth and wasted no time savagely stroking my throat with His cock, coating my throat with her pussy juice. He fucked my throat deep and I concentrated hard on taking him all in while he took pleasure in my throat.
It didn’t take long but He pulled out until just the tip of His cock was inside my mouth. He shot load after load of gooey, warm come onto my tongue.
He pulled out and I suddenly felt sad and empty. I swallowed every drop, as I knew I should, but was confused, angry, and horny all at the same time.
“Don’t move,” He said to me and He helped the floozy gather her belongings. She was soon out the door and He closed the door with a heavy sigh. He looked my way, still kneeling on the floor where He left me.
“Walk with me on your hands and knees.”
I slowly walked beside him as He lead me through the living room, down the hallway, towards the office.
“Do you know why I did that, pet?” He asked.
“No,” I said, honestly.
“I did it because I wanted to push you. I wanted you to take a long, hard look inward. Did you do that?”
“Yes,” I said.
We kept walking.
“Did you like seeing me fuck that girl?” He asked.
“No,” I answered, honestly, but I turned my head, sheepishly.
“Are you lying to me?” He asked.
“It’s… it’s complicated,” I said.
“Present,” He asked and I sprang up onto my legs in front of him, again spreading myself so He could inspect me.
He forcefully pushed two fingers inside my pussy and found it dripping wet and ready.
“Good girl, good girl. I know you haven’t had the chance to come in many days, but I’m so proud of your behavior tonight that I’m going to let you come twice, any way you’d like,” He said.
My face lit up.
“Perhaps your cock is not yet clean enough?” I asked. He smiled.
“Perhaps it isn’t.”
I got back on my hands an knees and we continued down the hallway.