Ay: Temmuz 2022

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We had been in St. Pete’s Beach for two days already, and I was going crazy. You were stunning. You had a great body, a brilliant mind, and I am still not sure if you are aware how great and brilliant you are. Every afternoon, when the sessions were done, we would meet up on the beach with the rest of the group and make plans for the evening, and every afternoon, you were there in your bikini. You would go for a run, then take a quick dip, and maybe lay out until dinnertime. You were in such great shape. I had had a secret professional crush on you for a couple of years, and now you were lying out next to me every afternoon for a week. For the first few days, when we broke to go get ready for dinner, I would get to my room and immediately drop my swim shorts. Laying back on the bed in my room, I’d jack off hard and fast then take a quick shower to calm myself . Then, for the evening and late into the night, we would take advantage of our surroundings. W would eat great food, drink great drinks, sit out on patios, and listen to music. I learned of your love of music, and it only made me want you more. You sang along, and I realized you had a great voice too. After a couple of nights out, a couple more drinks than I should have had, and being completely smitten, I started to flirt. Lightly at first, but getting a little more obvious with every drink I finished. I still don’t think you ever noticed. You were married, I was engaged, but we were in a sandy paradise, and I couldn’t have possibly wanted you more. We were joking around, you were having as much fun as I was, and then you said it. Words I had imagined every evening before dinner had finally escaped your mouth. I wasn’t sure whether you meant it or not, but I was responding before you finished asking me, “Do you want to go skinny dipping?” “Yes!” The next bahis siteleri few minutes were a blur. Before I knew what was happening, we were sneaking down the beach to a dark enough spot where we wouldn’t get caught. Before I could undo my belt, you were half naked. By the time my shirt came over my head, I was staring at your naked back and delicious ass running into the water. I was throbbing I was so hard, but luckily the cool ocean water brought me back down to size. As I caught up with you in the water, I saw your tits, and they were just as I had imagined. They were firm, your nipples were a perfect size, and it was all I could do not to grab you and suck on them. Before I even had the chance to get close enough to touch you, you were running back to the beach. By the time I caught up this time, you already had your thong back on. I was lucky enough to learn you wore thongs, so that was something I could confirm from my daily jack off sessions, but I didn’t even get a glimpse of your pussy, so whether you shaved or trimmed remained a mystery. I was slow to get dressed, but you were fully covered before I was, and I could not have been more disappointed. Finally seeing you naked was mind blowing to me, and just like that, it was over. We went back to the bar, ordered another round, and gazed knowingly at each other until our drinks were gone. Then it was time to go to our rooms. You were sharing a room, so I didn’t have much of a shot at getting you to come back to mine with me. Before I knew it, you were at your floor, and that was that. As soon as I got inside my room, I was naked and throbbing again. Imagining my hand was yours, I came almost as soon as I got my hand around my cock. Hungry from the night’s festivities and a long day, I decided to order pizza. I thought about inviting you down, but canlı bahis siteleri thought better of it. After all, you were married, I was engaged, and there was no way I could be alone with you again without making a fool out of myself or possibly offending you by throwing myself at you. I decided to shower while I waited for the food to arrive. As I got out, I saw your text thanking me for an inspiring experience. With that text, and being completely naked and perfectly clean, I used both hands and came again, for the second time that night, and the fourth time that day, and then got dressed. After my meal, naked in bed, I drifted off thinking of you and dreamt of what could have been… As I got out of the shower, I saw your text. Still under the influence of the alcohol from earlier, reeling from being naked so close to you, and still remarkably turned on, I texted back that I was sad it ended so soon, and that I had food on the way if you were awake and hungry. Expecting nothing in return, I threw on boxers and a button down shirt and waited for the food. It arrived, I signed for it, and then sat down on the spare bed to feast, still playing the image in my head of your bare ass running into the ocean. I was slowly rubbing myself outside my boxers when I heard a knock at the door. At first, I ignored it, but it happened again, so I stood up, walked to the door, and peered through the peephole. Holy shit, it was you! You asked what was for dinner, and I showed you to the bed where the food was laid out. You had obviously showered and changed too. You were in a tank top and running shorts, and I couldn’t quite tell, but it appeared you were braless. I kept stealing glances while you ate, and I was wracking my brain for a way to segue into getting what I wanted, to taste you and fuck you, right then and canlı bahis there. As it turned out, you had something similar in mind, and while I was blissfully unaware, you had noticed the tent in my boxers and were quite flattered. Taking me out of my daydream, you broke the silence I was ignoring when you asked, “Is that for me?” Without noticing, the head of my now aching cock had slipped out of the leg opening on the left side of my boxers. I looked down at it, it pulsed, and then I looked back up at you, speechless. Before I could respond, or move, or really think, you were on the move, sitting next to me. You reached down, gripped it firmly, and then leaned in close enough to kiss me, but stopped short. Your eyes were the sexiest I had ever seen, your grip remained firm and tight, but you were waiting for me to do something. This was more than I could have ever imagined, and I was finally ready to react. My right hand went to the side of your face and I leaned in and kissed you, long and deep. Our mouths open, our tongues intertwined, all of my longing, finally in motion. My left hand went to the small of your back, and I pulled you closer. I rolled onto my back, pulling you with me until you were on top of me. You instinctively straddled my waist, grinding into my cock, and I broke our kiss to pull your tank top up and over your head. You were indeed braless and, without wasting any time, my mouth locked itself onto your nipple. First your left, then your right. I was sucking and nibbling and biting and loving the reaction I was eliciting from you, completely living in the moment. This was a moment I had imagined so many times but never thought would actually happen. You were still grinding into me. My hands went to your hips to position you onto my dick the best I could. Your hands were clawing at my chest, and my hands were clawing at your hips, and in the passion that ensued, I could tell there were no panties beneath your running shorts. Knowing this could end at any moment and not wanting it to ever end, I decided to take charge.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

     It had been almost a month since I heard the horrible news that our next door neighbors were moving.  They had been our neighbors for seven years, and our kids and their kids were best friends.  However, in all honesty, that isn’t why I was upset at all.  Angela was by far the hottest mom in the entire neighborhood, and I was definitely going to miss her and her yoga pants.  I was also going to miss joining them at the pool, where I spent the whole time trying to get away with staring at her amazing body in her bikini the whole time.         Angela was probably my wife’s closest friend in the cul-de-sac.  They both enjoy shopping and interior decoration, so they hit it off right from the start.  And, while my wife’s body showed the wear from having three kids, Angela’s body looked as tight as a teenage cheerleader. Three kids had no apparent effect at all.  Not only did she have a fantastic body, but she was absolutely gorgeous to boot.  Even when she was pregnant with their daughter, I thought she always looked so beautiful.         She was so close to my wife, and never showed any interest in me at all, so I had never tried flirting or testing the waters in any güvenilir bahis way.  That seemed like a sure fire way to get a divorce, and I wasn’t looking for that at all.  So, I just kept my lustful thoughts to myself, and jerked off fantasizing about her way more times than I could possibly count.         Two weeks before they moved we threw them a going away party in the cul-de-sac.  A couple of us drug our grills out, and we grilled hamburgers and hot dogs, and we all ate and hung out in the middle of the street.  The kids played and the adults sat around drinking and laughing.  Around 9:00pm my wife mentioned that it was time to get our daughter to bed.  Without objection I jumped up and chased her down.  Bedtime was daddy daughter time, and happened to be my favorite time of the day.  It always took about thirty minutes to get her changed, read her a story and lay in her bed until she fell asleep, and often times I would fall asleep as well, but not that night.         While laying at the foot of my daughter’s bed, listening to the laughter of the whole cul-de-sac outside, I noticed the outline of a woman’s head peek into my daughter’s room.  I naturally güvenilir bahis siteleri assumed it was my wife.  I inspected my daughter, and listened for the telltale signs that she was indeed sleeping.  I whispered “I think she’s asleep, I’ll be in our bedroom in a minute.”       After watching my daughter for a few more seconds, to make sure she really was sleeping, I slowly crawled out of her bed, and walked to our bedroom.  I couldn’t believe what was waiting for me when I walked through the door.  There was Angela almost totally naked laying on the bed.  I say almost, because she had on thigh high stockings and high heels.          “Angela, what are you doing?”        “You told me to wait in your bedroom, so I made myself comfortable.  I don’t think your wife will mind that I tried on her stockings and heels, do you?”       That was all I needed to hear, and I pulled my shirt over my head, and pulled my shorts and underwear down and off at the same time.  In the three seconds it took me to do that, my cock was fully hard and ready to go.  I was only four steps from the bed, and right as I got next to it, she had turned on the bed and simply reached out, iddaa siteleri grabbed my cock and guided it to her mouth.         I stood next to my bed and watched my gorgeous neighbor suck the entire length of my erection into her mouth. She looked absolutely beautiful already, but there was something even more amazing about her gorgeous face with my dick in her mouth.  I placed my hand on the back of her head, because that’s what guys do in porn movies, and she started moaning while sucking my cock.  The vibrations from her moaning sent shivers down my spine.       While she expertly sucked my meaty cock, I reached down and started rubbing her pussy with my hand.  That made her moan even more, which really had me going.  I had to taste her sweet pussy, so I kind of forced my way onto the bed while she continued sucking,  pushing my face between her thighs and pulling my legs up to rest on the headboard.  I pressed my lips to her pussy and slid my tongue inside her.  Using my fingertip I rubbed her clit vigorously and licked her pussy like a mad man.  She pulled her mouth away from my cock and let out a loud moan, almost a scream.        I got a little nervous that my daughter might wake up, or someone could have come in and heard her, but in the heat of the moment I wasn’t going to stop.  I continued rubbing her clit quickly and licking her pussy as good as I possibly could, until she begged me to fuck her.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

The following morning I woke with a guilt-hangover to add to my alcohol hangover and sleepless-night-exhaustion. Katie showed no sign of stirring so, although I was probably still over the limit, I drove to a twenty-four hour clinic in a distant part of the city where I stood for half an hour alongside care-worn prostitutes and crying teenage girls before finally obtaining the morning-after pills I desperately needed.When I returned home, Katie was still asleep. I lay on my bed, bewildered.***The flowers arrived at two o’clock in the afternoon. I was asleep, so tired that not even guilt could keep me awake. I had popped two of the pills, was hoping they would be doing their much-needed job and wondering if I would feel them doing it.The doorbell woke me up. I ignored it, expecting it to be one of Katie’s friends. It rang again. I ignored it again. When it rang a third time I realised Katie must have gone out while I had been asleep so I tottered downstairs to find a smiling young woman on the doorstep with a large bouquet of flowers.There was no card but as I took them into the kitchen a text message arrived on my phone.‘I thought a card would be too risky but wanted to let you know how important last night was to me. You are a very special woman. Thank you. Neil x’I should have either ignored the message or replied saying that it had been a terrible mistake which we must both try and forget had ever happened. Even now, I cannot fully explain why I did neither of these. I didn’t throw the flowers into the dustbin either. Instead I trimmed them, placed them carefully in a vase then sat looking at them with a mug of coffee in my hand, thinking.My hangover had greatly reduced and the hour’s sleep had gone some way towards restoring my composure but even then I can’t have been thinking clearly because I picked up my phone and began to type.‘The flowers are lovely but you shouldn’t have sent them.’The response was almost instant.‘Mel! I’m so glad you replied. I thought you might not talk to me.’‘I shouldn’t talk to you . We shouldn’t have done it Neil.’‘I don’t know what came over me’ Neil’s message ran. ‘I’m really sorry.’Something in that message stirred something within me; perhaps it was anger, perhaps something deeper but there was fire in my fingers as I typed.‘Are you sorry Neil?’‘What do you mean?’‘Simple question. Are you really sorry you fucked me?”Where the ‘f’ word came from I have no idea. Until then I had been rather prudish in my vocabulary.There was a long delay before my phone beeped again.‘No Mel. I’m not sorry at all. In fact I’m pleased we finally fucked!’The words stunned me. I stared at the screen in a combination of disbelief and guilty delight but could not think what to reply. In the end Neil must have got fed up waiting because he sent another message.‘Are you still there?’‘I’m still here.’There was another pause before my phone beeped.‘I’ve wanted to fuck you for years. Ever since I met you.’The words burned into my mind as I stared at the screen in astonishment.‘Are you sorry it happened Mel?’ came the next message.How did I feel? I certainly felt dirty and guilty but somehow, not sorry.What was more, I felt unexpectedly aroused; I felt attractive again, I felt sexy again.Had Neil forced me? I couldn’t even pretend that he had. Although Neil had given me little choice in the matter I hadn’t really resisted; I hadn’t screamed or called for help – in truth I had actually directed his erect cock into my open, waiting vagina myself.And it had felt so very, very good to have a man want me again in that feral, uncontrolled way.I took a deep breath then made the second biggest mistake of my life.‘I’m pleased it happened too’ I typed slowly and carefully.My heart was thumping as I saw the words appear on my screen and knew they had just appeared on his.‘Thank God! When can I see you again?’My fingers seemed to be typing on their own as unfamiliar, powerful emotions surged through me.‘Tomorrow night.’‘You’re alone?’‘Katie’s staying with friends’‘You really mean it Mel? Let’s be very clear; you want me to fuck you again?’The words were so hard to type I almost gave up but in the end I sent the message that was ultimately to destroy the trust in my marriage and leave me where I am today.‘Yes Neil. I want you to fuck me again!’***Neil came round the following evening dressed in his tennis clothes. He had told his wife Alison that he had a league match to play but instead came straight to see me. I was wearing a short yellow sun dress with a plain white bra and knickers underneath.When I saw his strong tanned legs and tight buttocks in those crisp white shorts and the way his polo shirt showed off his chest and biceps, the few reservations that remained simply disappeared.Within ten minutes of arriving he had bent me over the kitchen table, raised my dress around my waist, pulled my knickers around my ankles and was fucking me hard. I had my first orgasm within minutes, my hands gripping the table edge for all they were worth as I wailed into the empty house.This was no drunken, accidental mistake. This was a deliberate, sober decision to have sex with another man.The first, pivotal act of infidelity out of the way, we could take our time about the second. This took place in the guest bedroom with the curtains open, both of us naked. I came again, noisily, my arms and legs wrapped tightly around him as he came, this time in a condom.I went back on the pill the very next day, hiding them in the depths of my sponge bag in the bathroom where I knew Chris would never look.***That was how the first and I hope, only affair in my married life started.For the first two week, Neil and I met almost every day, snatching opportunities in my house when Katie was out; his wife’s presence putting Neil’s home out of bounds. We fucked so hard and so often that my vulva was constantly sore.Not even when Chris and I were students had I enjoyed so much sex in such a short period of time.Things slowed down when my older daughter Hannah returned from University for the summer. With both her and Katie around, the risk of being caught was high but, with only one or two near-misses, we managed.Chris insisted that I include details of my affair. During those early weeks Neil and I fucked far too often for every encounter to be included individually so here are a couple that stick in my mind.On Wednesday 12th July at quarter to seven in the evening, Neil fucked me on my back, lying across the boardroom table in his empty office suite. My dress was under my armpits, the shoulder straps were lowered, my boobs were fully exposed and my nipples had been liberally kaçak iddaa sucked and bitten. I had deliberately not worn any panties in case we had to be quick but in the end we had plenty of time. Neil fucked me slowly and deeply and I reached a very pleasant, if rather messy orgasm. We had to wash the table top down afterwards.At seven-thirty in the morning of Tuesday 18th July, Neil took me from behind in the back of my SUV in the Country Park. I was on all fours on the rear seat with him kneeling behind me. My face was pressed hard against the near-side window when he came inside me but I was too uncomfortable to climax myself. Two dog walkers came within fifty yards of us. One of them might have seen us but neither of them reacted.In the evening of Friday 21st July, my husband came home from the Middle East. Neil and I spent two full hours in bed in our guest room before I left to collect Chris from the airport. He fucked me very hard on my back and on my knees, coming inside me twice and producing as usual, a great deal of semen.We had been so into each other that we lost track of time and I had to leave in a hurry straight afterwards with only a perfunctory wash. I hoped that Chris wouldn’t notice the smell of sex on me.Smell turned out to be the least of my problems; half way to the airport I realised I was sitting with a small pool of second-hand semen inside my knickers. Emergency measures were needed. Fortunately, there was a delay unloading the baggage so I just had time to visit first the airport drug store then the Ladies’ Room.When I greeted my exhausted husband at the arrivals gate, I had a hastily-purchased sanitary towel in my freshly-rinsed, still-damp knickers to prevent any more semen from leaking down my legs. It was already too late to prevent the back of my dress from staining. Fortunately, my husband did not notice the semen at the back of my thighs and thank God, he was far too tired to be interested in sex when we got home.I’m sorry if this upsets you Chris, but you made me promise and this is the truth.The next three weeks were difficult. With my husband and both daughters at home the best Neil and I could manage was one assignation each week, with maybe a second if we were lucky. Most were in the back of my SUV, parked in a variety of inconspicuous places within a ten-mile radius of our house.All were snatched moments of intimacy; few were satisfactory. None resulted in orgasm for me; Neil’s excessive semen production made going about my business afterwards problematic.The two week family holiday that followed would normally have been something to look forward to; a large, luxurious villa in Spain with its own pool set only a short walk from the sea. We had been there half a dozen times before and knew the area well. This time Hannah had wanted to bring her boyfriend too. Chris and I were okay about it but Katie had gone on and on about being a ‘third wheel’ so the idea had been vetoed and there was more than a little tension in the air even without my secret.The holiday passed quite well though. As it happened, Katie met a boy who came from a town near ours on the second night. The rest of us were forced to endure their holiday romance, Hannah nursing a grievance throughout the whole fortnight.Chris and I rekindled our love life to some extent but thanks to the intensity of my new affair and the sex that came with it, my expectations had been unrealistically altered. Chris did his best but as a partner I was not as responsive as I should have been, silently comparing his performance unfavourably with Neil’s.I’m sorry Chris. I know I was useless in bed. You are a good lover.When the holiday was over I could hardly wait for the affair to begin again.I did not have to wait long. Chris returned to the Middle East for a short visit on September 2nd but although he was away, the kids were still at home so there was still the constant risk of my affair being discovered by one of our them or Neil’s wife.Until the University term started again, we agreed to see each other only a couple of times each week and then only on neutral territory like a hotel room or his office once everyone else had gone home. It was hot, passionate and exciting but not the relationship I wanted.September 9th finally arrived; the day the kids went back to University or on the case of my youngest, went away for the first time. Chris had returned in time to see them off and for the following two weeks he and I were a couple again.It could and should have been a romantic time with plenty of opportunity to rekindle our love life in private but my heart wasn’t in it; I was already getting most of the sex I needed elsewhere.Chris went back to the Middle East for another three-week posting on Monday September 25th. I was mistress of an empty house again. No danger of being caught; no shortage of time; I was free to be the selfish, unfaithful wife and passionate lover I had become.Neil rose to the challenge and all Hell was let loose sexually. We thought we were in heaven; no husband, no kids in the house, no-one to interfere. With the danger of discovery all but gone, we could be together on an almost daily basis, mornings, afternoons or evenings, whenever Neil could be free and I could arrange my rather empty diary to suit.Under his experienced tutoring, I discovered much more about myself; about my increasingly adventurous sexual tastes both in bed and out and the risks I could be persuaded to take to have them satisfied.Chris, it might hurt you to read this but you insisted I was honest so here goes.Neil arrived at our house at four o’clock on the day Chris left. He returned to his wife three hours later leaving me exhausted and asleep in our marital bed.The feeling of complete freedom, total abandonment and surrender to sheer physical pleasure as I let him do whatever he wanted to me and with me was truly liberating. He spanked me, bit me, sucked my nipples and fucked me hard but the main event was still to follow.I know my husband will find this hard to read but while he was in flight that afternoon, Neil introduced me to the joys of anal sex. It took a lot of persuasion but Neil is a very persuasive man so eventually I agreed.I am so glad I did!When Neil’s cock first entered my well-lubricated anus from behind, I was lying on my side with my knees raised to my chest. The pain of the first penetration shocked me; it really felt as if I was losing my virginity all over again. I suppose in a way, I was. But Neil was gentle and careful, moving very slowly, using more and more lubrication until my sphincter eventually relaxed and he could thrust in and kaçak bahis out easily.It felt very strange as my rectum was slowly filled by a man’s cock for the first time but we persevered and eventually I had taken all of his not inconsiderable size.By the time he left, I had been successfully shown how pleasurable an experience backdoor sex can be if done with plenty of care. Feeling Neil ejaculate in my rectum rather than my vagina made me feel raw, earthy and wicked but it was so, so good.After that, there were too many copulations to describe them all, but as my husband insists I let everyone know the kind of woman I really am, I will include the most outrageous, most daring and most exciting.On Thursday 3rd October I played tennis in the afternoon with one of my friends then went straight to the Waitrose Supermarket in Newark, about forty minutes.I have always worn a short skirt for tennis rather than shorts. On Neil’s instructions, for over half an hour I did my week’s shopping with my panties in my handbag, completely naked under my skirt. The thrill was out of this world, especially when I came close to the freezer and chill-cabinets and felt the cold air circulating around my moistening vulva.Neil met me on a quiet lane near a local Country Park on my way home. I was already highly aroused so did not even think of objecting when he pressed me up against a tree and fucked me standing up, much as he had done the very first time. I came instantly but the green stains simply will not come out of my white tennis clothes.On Sunday 8th October in our bed and after half an hour of missionary sex, Neil took me anally once again. His wife believed him to be on the golf course. This time we used even more lubrication and I was much better prepared. The whole of the next hour was spent in various positons, the only common theme being the repeated presence of Neil’s shaft in my bottom. The sensations were incredible and the full-body orgasms simply out of this world.We did it again on the evening of Tuesday 10th an hour after you and I had spoken on the phone. We did it one last time at seven in the morning on Friday 13th October after Neil and I had spent the whole night together in the guest room our house. He had told Alison he was in London for a meeting.Chris there is no way to put this that doesn’t make me sound like a slut. I’ve discovered I love anal sex. It has been a revelation; I wish I had known this years ago when we were younger and my body better able to handle it.I really wish you and I had discovered it together rather than me discovering it during my only period of infidelity but no matter how I wish otherwise, I can’t change history. It’s the deepest secret to come out of my affair; if you can read this and still respect me, we still have a chance together.***The next part of the story has been written unashamedly as a piece of erotica for readers to enjoy. All the events described actually took place but the words are more mine and detail has been added to make the story appeal to seasoned readers of erotic literature.***Our world of lust came to an abrupt end on Monday 16th October 2017.My husband’s flight was due into Heathrow airport at eight o’clock that evening. As usual, I had planned to drive down late that afternoon to pick him up. Chris had told me it wasn’t necessary; that he could easily get a taxi but, possibly driven by guilt, I had insisted on going to collect him.That guilt hadn’t been strong enough to prevent me inviting Neil for one last, lingering fuck in our house before my husband returned and our period of complete freedom came to an end.To reach the airport by eight o’clock I needed to leave home by five-thirty. If Neil arrived around two and had left by four o’clock, that would give us a full two hours together. After that I would have ninety minutes to wash away any gooey traces of infidelity, for my face and chest to lose some of their post-climax pinkness and for me to do any tidying that was needed.In fact Neil arrived at one o’clock, apparently unable to wait any longer. I had intended to be dressed very sexily for him on our last unhurried afternoon and had even bought new lingerie for the occasion. I was a little wrong-footed and completely unready when he arrived early but was determined to give him the full benefit of my new purchases.Neil accompanied me up to our marital bedroom and sat on the freshly-made bed while I went for a brief shower and changed into my new lingerie. When I opened the bathroom door and stepped into the bedroom I was alive with nerves.“Jesus Mel! You look incredible!”Neil’s whole demeanour as I emerged through the door dressed in my new white stockings, red satin bra, panties and suspenders, high red heels and with my hair brushed over my shoulders made my head, heart and boobs swell with pride. He rose to his feet immediately, his trousers bulging as I approached him and posed, turning round and round to give him the full impact of my middle-aged body.“Jesus fucking Christ!”To cut another long story short, his obvious admiration gave me the confidence to perform for him; I dancing sexily, stripping down to my stockings and heels before kneeling in front of him to tease his hardening cock. Feeling it growing, I slowly unfastened his waistband and lowered his zipper to release it from its captivity.Though not as long as my husband’s, it was the only one I had seen in well over twenty years so to me, it was still impressive.Neil raised his bottom from the mattress as I eased his trousers and underpants down, over his tight buttocks, along his muscular thighs, over his knees and down to his ankles. He looked at me, almost as amazed at my behaviour as I was myself as I placed a hand on each of his shoulders and pushed him back on the bed.With a smile on my face and desperately trying to remember the few porn films I had seen, I mounted him, straddling his chest, one knee either side with my crotch merely inches from his face.Neil raised his head and began to lick my obscenely-presented vulva with his tongue.It felt wonderful; apart from the sheer pleasure of having my slit licked by a man’s active tongue, there I was at my age for the first time dominating a strong, good-looking man both physically and sexually. For the first time ever I was in charge; a person much more powerful than me both physically and financially was complying completely with my desires.“Mmmmmmm!”I raised my face to the ceiling and moaned with satisfaction as Neil’s tongue flicked back and forth along my open slit, my hands gripping his tighter and tighter as I began to tremble.He licked me for a long illegal bahis time, my body shaking as he brought me close to orgasm again and again but never quite pushed me over the edge. The agony of anticipation was exquisite but we both know it was not going to be enough to satisfy either of us.Still in unfamiliar control, I shuffled back on my knees, reached behind with my left hand until I had grasped Neil’s erect cock, then carefully lowered myself onto its smooth end. It parted my inner lips as it passed through my stretched entrance and began to penetrate deep into my body.I gasped as I impaled myself on his long shaft, the angle and position making it feel so much thicker than it had before. My legs trembled as I slowly lowered myself, feeling Neil’s already swollen head reaching deeper and deeper into my loins, then my belly, then into my chest where it seemed to catch in my throat.As my buttocks came to rest on Neil’s upper thighs I could feel the pressure of his tip on my cervix, forcing my womb upwards into my belly while his thick base stretched my entrance tightly. It was a position I had used only a handful of times before and had completely forgotten just how deep a penetration it could produce.“Oh God! Oh God!” I gasped.Neil wriggled underneath me as if adjusting his position but I was too wrapped up in my own pleasure to think about it. A moment later he seemed to have slipped half an inch deeper still. My breaths came in gulps and I reached out with both hands for security.Neil’s fingers grasped mine firmly, entwining and holding them tightly. Our eyes met.And then I began to ride him, tilting my pelvis back and forth, raising and lowering myself on my knees.It felt incredible. All my life I had taken a submissive role during sex, letting first my husband then my lover take me where they wanted. Like many women I enjoy being dominated; I enjoy having my limits tested but for me, actually taking the lead was unusual in the extreme.And what a thrill it was!As I rode Neil’s cock, deciding for myself how fast I wanted to be penetrated, how deeply and from what angle, an entirely new vision opened up before me; a vision of what my sexual future might be. A future where from time to time I got what I really wanted rather than what my lover, however well intentioned, believed would make me happy.High on the amazing physical sensations and powerful emotions, I began to orgasm hard and fast.Seeing this, Neil matched his movements to mine, his upward thrusts meeting my descents full-on. The depth of penetration was profound, the battering of my cervix for a moment feeling as if I had been punched in the stomach but I quickly learned that I could control this too simply by changing the way I rose and fell on my knees.“Ohhhhhwwwwww!”The room was filled with the wet, slapping, feral sounds of two hot, aroused bodies repeatedly colliding. With our paces perfectly matched, the climax that rolled over me was one of the sweetest and longest-lasting of my life, depriving me of breath for so long that I really thought I would pass out.“Ohhhhhwwwwwwyyyyeeeesssss!”As I came over and over again, I could sense Neil’s body going into spasm. With me in charge, I was unable to read his arousal from the pace and rhythm of his thrusts so his climax was all but on him before I realised how close he was.“Nnnnggghhhh!”Neil came inside my bucking body with a howl, his hips slamming upwards into the base of my buttocks, his pulsating cock driving my cervix hard into my belly over and over again. The mutual spasming of our two bodies seemed to go on forever, as did the ejaculation that I could feel was taking place deep within me but eventually it began to release us from its grasp and our bodies became ours again.“Chris Mel! Where did that come from?”Neil was grinning up at me, his smile as broad as a Cheshire Cat’s. Though it had stopped throbbing, his cock was still deep inside me, slowly beginning to soften. A little embarrassed, I smiled as demurely as a girl can who was still astride her lover, impaled on his cock and whose vulva was beginning to leak juices onto his lower belly.“That was amazing! You should take control more often. You should dress like that more often too!”I was still too shocked to reply. As Neil’s cock flopped messily from my vagina, I dismounted gingerly, feeling the now familiar emptiness as his body left mine, then rolled onto the sheets alongside him.“Come here!”Neil took my still-trembling body in his arms and cuddled me for a long time. It was warm and comforting and emotions not unlike love began to fill my mind as completely my body had been filled with his seed.We kissed, stroked and dozed together for nearly an hour before I noticed the clock moving closer to the time I had to leave if I was to clean up and meet my husband’s flight.It was time for the farewell fuck we always enjoyed – but this time I knew it had to be different.Chris was normally too tired on his return from abroad to want sex straight away but it wasn’t unheard of. Knowing how my body responded to vigorous sex, especially between my legs, I was anxious not to make it obvious that I had recently been fucked by someone else just in case this was one of the few days in which sex was high on my husband’s agenda.Our one penetration, however energetic would leave its mark on my chest, face and vulva but I was reasonably confident the worst would have worn off by the time I had driven to the airport and back. After all, I had nearly six hours before bedtime.This would not be the case after a second or third session in bed with Neil. I knew from experience that my vulva would still be swollen and pink for at least a full day after so many copulations, something my husband could not fail to notice.Dates were likely to be difficult to arrange over the next few weeks so I knew Neil was not going to be satisfied with only one fuck that afternoon. To try and satisfy him and quite uncharacteristically for me, as I rose to my knees on the mattress, still in my lingerie, I suggested we enjoy a long, slow mutually satisfying period of oral sex.Actually what I said was “I want to suck your cock!”Neil looked at least as shocked as he was pleased to hear those words. I was shocked too; in fact I can’t remember ever having said them before either to him or to my husband. He recovered his composure quickly though, rolling onto his back, smiling even more broadly and saying:“Be my guest!”Though I love to receive oral sex, I had only limited experience in giving it. Still I did my best but it did not start as well as I had intended. Taking Neil’s flaccid penis in my hand was not an issue; it was covered in a drying combination of my juices and his semen but it began to firm up immediately. The problem came when I lowered my head to lick his smooth, rounded end and took it between my lips.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Charlie’s Lounge on Beacon Street has become your go-to when returning home from business; Boston has always felt more exciting than the small-town life you live in Braintree.  Being home is terrific, for sure – Alyssa and the kids are a constant joy – however, one last stop in town never hurt anyone.  Charlie’s is great for that, a small restaurant and bar with live music most nights.  It hints at the buzzing, lively feeling you get at the clubs in New York, but without the overcrowding and migraine-inducing cover charges.  Besides, the food is too die for.An attractive twenty-something brunette greets you, “Good evening, Sir,” she says, “how many tonight?”  You flash a smile at her; restaurants always make sure they hire pretty hostesses, don’t they?  Glancing around the room, you see Dan sitting in a booth already.“Actually, I’m with him,” you say, pointing towards the sandy-haired gentleman.  The hostess nods and escorts you over to the booth, places a menu in your hands and informs you a waitress will return with a glass of water.  Dan Cunningham, probably the most average guy in Back Bay except, of course, for his marriage.  Having met in the fifth grade, you and Dan held no secrets from one another.  You knew about his first kiss, his bahis siteleri first “lay,” first underage beer – literally everything, and he held reciprocal knowledge.  You’d even had the privilege of being the best man in his wedding, a position you’d not given him at your own.  He harbored no ill will though; choosing a wedding party is…delicate.“Hey, Dan,” you say, “how’s it?”“Evan,” he says, shaking your hand, “same old.  Glad you’re back.”“So, you said there was a new girl?”“Yes,” Dan beams, “and she is exquisite, let me tell you.”Elaine, your waitress, sets a glass of water at your place.  Elaine isn’t the most beautiful waitress in the joint, but she is the best one.  Besides, she’s Charlie’s wife and has been serving his customers for at least thirty years.  She jots down an order of “the usual” for Dan and a medium-rare sirloin and side of parmesan-encrusted grilled zucchini for yourself.“Anyway,” Dan says, “this new girl.  Riley Tompkins.  She’s a twenty-three-year-old fuck machine.  Goes to school over at Boston College with her boyfriend, Randy.  The two of them have a similar arrangement to the one Sarah and I have.”“And how did you meet?” you ask.“Sarah was one of Riley’s professors.  There were rumors that she was…open to sharing.  canlı bahis siteleri I’m not sure how Sarah brought it up to her, but she’s been over to our place four times now.  All-nighters too.  Riley’s big thing is toys – she loves riding Sarah’s strap-on while blowing me.  And Sarah loves her taste.”“What about you?”“I’ve never had a tighter girl, and she’s open to anal,” he says.You nod your head, enjoying his stories of threesomes with this young Riley and Sarah, his wife.  The first time he’d ever mentioned sharing his wife left you astonished; the fact that that sort of relationship might work was beyond comprehension.  Thankfully, he’d been willing to share the stories of their wild nights for about seven years now.  Seven years is a long time; their marriage seemed intact, and they had new partners at least once a year – college kids never stay long after graduation. Even stranger than the idea of Dan and Sarah having multiple partners was that it was incredibly arousing; the thought lingered in your mind for days.  The next time you took Alyssa from behind, your imagination went wild.  It wasn’t her hips you were clutching, but Sarah’s. It was Sarah’s voice which filled the room, begging for more.  All the time you spent canlı bahis pleasing his wife, Dan sat in the corner of the room stroking himself, waiting for a turn.  Of course, the scene had never come to fruition and if it had, Alyssa would’ve been long gone with the kids, leaving you with a couple grand in alimony and child support.  Nope, the closest you came to pleasing Mrs. Cunningham was in those sweet private moments in a New York hotel room, your eyes closed, your breath ragged, cock in hand.  It was good though.  Always good, she knew precisely how to induce those toe-curling orgasms. The “A-Minor Band” wraps up their set just as you finish your steak; pushing your plate aside, you order a beer.  The room fills with polite applause for the band as they exit the stage; like everyone else, you oblige.  The music hadn’t been terrible, it was just a bit too modern – no real timbre, just a typical pop-rock beat under acceptable vocals.  It was just the sort of thing your bosses would love, something they could pump out over the airwaves ad nauseam; eventually, though, everyone and their mother would have the lyrics memorized. “A-Minor” would be sporting air-brushed smiles, and a hundred thousand screaming teens would piss themselves just to throw money at the merch.  You smirk thinking about the raise you’d get for signing “A-Minor.”  Yet, no amount of money in the world could make this music better; something would still be missing – and that something is essential.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

“If you want, you can take my cherry!” I’m not sure how it came that I heard it at all, with the music blaring much too loud through the worn-down speakers and the crowd around me shouting and jumping. Someone had bumped into me, as if I hadn’t been miffed enough after Kirsty and Jo-Anne had somehow up and vanished from the party. I had swiped the spilled Tequila Sunrise from the front of my red tank top as good as I could and cursed the gods. This should have been our big end-of-year party, with Kirsty, Jo-Anne and me celebrating our eighteenth birthdays again, dancing through the night, getting ourselves absolutely pissed and, hopefully, getting laid. It was the latter that my two friends had probably wandered off to, just after the party had gotten into swing, and now I was mightily pissed at them for leaving me to my own devices. And I was more than desperate to get some of my own after six weeks of nothing but studying. I didn’t have a boyfriend. I had myself and my fingers, and as lovely it was to play with myself before falling asleep, that yearning between my legs had increased daily. Listening to Kirsty talk about getting her cunt filled and stretched – her words, not mine – all afternoon had started tingles that didn’t want to disappear, so my body felt hot and my mind revolved around that one thing. That was when I heard the girl’s voice next to me, barely intelligible over the hubbub going on all around me. “If you want, you can take my cherry!” It was followed by a giggle. My head swiveled to where the voice came from. I caught a quick glimpse of her profile before she turned and all I could see was a blonde shock of hair, next to a fire engine red one, and I realized, listening to their giggles, that they were both girls. I’m still not sure what drove me to do so, but I started to edge around the table they were bahis siteleri sitting at and tried get a look at their faces. I leaned casually against one of the support posts a few feet away from their table and studied them. The blond one, the one who had spoken, looked about my age, but she wasn’t in any of my courses. She was slender and had a fine jaw with high cheekbones, which gave her a bit of an impish appearance. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, but she was rather pretty. The girl next to her, the redhead, was a bit older, a senior probably. She got tipsily to her feet and grabbed the two empty glasses that stood in front of them, swaying a bit before taking a deep breath and making a straight beeline for the bar. They seemed to be having fun. I wouldn’t have pegged the blond to be a lesbian. Most of the known campus lezzies tended to be of the leather-wearing kind and the few others went for either boyish looks or the alternative style. Her dark red mini dress was rather nice, though. Her gaze roamed towards me and I quickly looked away. Redhead came back, two Mojitos balanced in her hands. One of the straws tumbled to the floor when she put them down on the table, which started another round of giggling. They whispered something, clinked their glasses and – kissed. Not a full out French kiss, but they did pucker their lips and press them against each other’s. I started to feel warm. I tried to look away, but couldn’t stop wondering what it would feel like to kiss a girl myself, and my eyes invariably came back to the blond. Did she really mean it? Was she going to lose her cherry to another girl? She left the cocktail glass on the table and bent forward each time she took a gulp. Her dress was cut loose enough to expose most of her small breasts to the curious eye. I had never understood why boys always wanted huge canlı bahis siteleri tits. Hers, two tight little hills that needed no support, were just perfect. Colored spots of light, reflected from the mirror ball, danced over her skin and made the soft sheen of sweat on her chest glisten. It was hot. It was summer, after all, and the room was filled to the brim, but my own heat had been rising steadily, and it had nothing to do with the temperature around me. Something felt off. I licked my lips and tried to figure it out, but when I did, my face exploded in red-hot shame and my eyes quickly turned away. It was too late. Redhead had apparently fallen asleep some time ago and was now snoring on the bench, her head resting awkwardly on the backrest. And blondie had noticed my stares, had played with me for the last few minutes and given me more than accidental glimpses, while she had stared at me with calculating eyes. Red, high-heeled ballerinas entered my field of vision. My knees grew weak, and I pressed my back hard against the post. I slowly looked up, only to fall into a pair of eyes as green as the Scottish sea. “It’s impolite to stare!” Her accusing words barely made it through the pounding of blood in my ears, even though her face was only inches away. “I’m…” My breath hitched and trembled. “I’m sorry.” “How will you make it up to me?” The way her pale pink lips parted with each word was something I had never noticed before, but the glimpses of white teeth and a darker pink tongue stirred a new and exhilarating emotion in me. The room was closing in around me. “Do you want to go for a walk?” My question was rushed, but I had to get it out before I could begin to doubt my actions. “Will your – friend,” I nodded towards redhead, “be okay?” She sent a quick glance at redhead. “Sandy? Yeah, she’s not going canlı bahis to wake up any time soon.” Her eyes became calculating again. “Why should I go for a walk with you?” This was crazy. I had never ever considered other girls, but the impish face with those huge, incredible eyes made me tremble. “Because…” I tried to come up with a plausible reason, but when moments turned into seconds, I admitted defeat and hung my head with a shrug. “Okay.” It to me a moment to register that. “Okay? I mean, really?” Her melodious giggle, a sound like glasses clinking against each other, drew goose bumps all over my skin, and when she took my hand in hers, my heart missed a beat. I let myself be pulled through the throngs of people and out the backdoor. The door fell shut behind us and locked away the sound. The silence wrapped like a blanket around us, and the rushing of blood in my ears filled my world. We didn’t talk. The air was hot and humid, and the distant growling of a thunderstorm could be heard. The world sparkled with static electricity and the ground seemed to bounce with every step along the dimly lit trail that wound through the park. Her hand suddenly left mine and gripped my upper arm. I froze, sparks shooting through my skin where her fingers touched me. She pulled off her shoes, which were not made for gravel paths. “Mm,” she whispered when her bare feet touched the ground, “better!” Her hand trailed down my arm, and she interlinked our fingers. Her hand was warm and soft, and it fit perfectly into mine. A minute or two passed by in comfortable silence. “Where are we going?” I didn’t dare to speak in more than a whisper. The song of a nightingale sounded from a group of trees and a smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. “How Cheesy!” Her whispered echo of my thoughts made us both giggle. “Wherever you want.” Butterflies started to dance in my tummy, and I grew bold, allowing my thumb to stroke the back of her hand. She didn’t pull away. We came by a group of trees that formed a wide circle. My daring spiked again, and I pulled her through a gap.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

I was an escort of sorts, for women. A few of them just wanted me as a trophy, whilst the majority wanted me as their lover. Many of the times a client would present an offer and I can’t deny that I wasn’t tempted. Some of the women I would attend events with were actually beautiful, but most were just as sleazy as some of the men you meet. The reason why I never accepted an offer, or succumbed to the advances of one of the women I entertained was because I was straight, completely and utterly straight. I had never had a sexual experience with a girl, and the thought never crossed my mind, that was until I started university. That was when the real problems started.  *** BANG BANG BANG Well that was the door, again, an angry landlord probably waiting at the other side most likely wanting the last two months’ rent. “For fuck sake Hattie, this is the last time I do you a favour. Pay the money and everything will go back to normal,” he barked through the keyhole. “Sorry Ken, I’ve been advised not to open the door as I’ve got the norovirus. It’s really infectious and I think I’m gonna … ” I stopped for emphasis as I mimicked gipping sounds as I pretended to throw up. I screwed up my eyes and breathed a silent sigh as I just realised how far I had sunk, just so he’d lay off about the rent. “I’m sick of your shit. Pay by Friday or get the fuck güvenilir bahis out,” he spat before I heard his heavy and repetitive footsteps walk away from my door and down the stairway. I was relieved, elated in fact. That man was my saviour at times, although he was a perverted arse. He had given me a few days so I could get my act together and get some serious cash, hopefully before I lost my home.  *** “What are you going to do, Tee?” Mora asked when she rang, adding the nickname I’d acquired through my name and my love of Earl Grey Tea. “I’ve no clue, Mora. I might as well just whore my body out, I might get a buck or two,” I sighed, deflated. “Well funny you should mention that,” she quickly responded. “What? No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no. I was kidding, and it’s not even legal. I’m not some sort of prostitute.” I was slightly hurt she had even considered that career route for me. “Wait, hear my out. You always jump to conclusions when what I have in my amazing mind could quite simply sort out your money problems, and social life,” she quipped before laughing. “I have a social life!” I defended quickly, but she sniggered and continued. “Yeah, okay then. I know I’ve never really divulged any information about my job or anything but it’s a lucrative business and one which I think you’d be amazing at.” “Go on?” “It’s simple really, güvenilir bahis siteleri be an escort.” I scoffed; escorts were just a nicer way of saying prostitute and a legal title that won’t slap you with a jail sentence or community service. “It’s the same goddamned thing,” I strained. “It’s far from the same as a prostitute, you haven’t even let me finish. You wouldn’t just be any old escort, hired to do with as the client pleases. You’ll be arm candy for the businessmen; and women alike.” She added the last part quickly. “Hold on. Women?” I inquired. “I’m not a lesbian Mona,” I added. “I know Tee, neither am I. However, they are not like the sleazy, egotistical, chauvinistic pigs that usually hire escorts. Trust me, I feel like a queen when I’m hired by my usual, Casey. She’s an art dealer and always likes to hire me for company, and also a show.” “So you have sex with her?” I was shocked; this was news to me. “No, no. Again jumping to conclusions, there is such a thing as stripping you know! The client can’t touch and it’s the rules, agreed upon before the meeting even takes place. I may be a little lenient with the rules, but for you it’d be purely stripping.” I stayed quiet for a while. I found the idea intriguing but I just didn’t think I could misguide people like that. I’d be a ‘fake’ and that’s what I spent my iddaa siteleri entire college life fighting and protesting against. “You’d be great y’know?” she said, breaking the silence. “And why, pray tell, would that be?” “You’re flawless. You have perfect skin, a perfect smile; you’re just beautiful okay. You could be the angel from above or the seductress from below. Eeither one you’d be fantastic at and you’d get clients left, right and centre. Trust me, Tee, I’m a part of that world and know it like the back of my hand. You’d be perfect. You could even work for me if you wanted.” Her voice trailed off as I realised what she was saying. “You have an escort agency? I’m your best friend and you keep something like that away from me,” I pouted and she laughed. “Yes. However, I just offered you a job. I’ll help along the way. Heck you can even come with me on one of my usual appointments, so you can learn the ropes. Just consider it, okay?” “I’ll do it.” I hardly believed the words came out of my mouth. “Wait, what? Just like that, you’re accepting? You don’t even know the salary.” “I don’t care. It’s better than being unemployed.” We finished our long winded but surprisingly revealing conversation with plans to meet the following day. I had to dress sexy and mysterious. I was going to be an escort for women, and I was honestly a tiny bit excited.  *** I spent the next day preparing myself for our plans. I ran a bath and infused the boiling water with my favourite juniper and raspberry oils so it would create a fluffy white lather that would ease my apprehensive muscles.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Alice bounced happily through the store. She loved when they had sales drives, and today’s was one of her favorites among the common repeats. While some events were unique, like Amber modeling that new bondage line two weeks ago or Mara’s day in the Light Box, others were repeated, with some variation, whenever Ellen felt the time was right. The event this week was a sort of game for the customers, with various discounts for winners, and a lot of sexy fun for both them and the shop girls. Each member of the staff, even Ellen herself, was dressed up in a different type of fetish wear, and equipped with at least one powerful remote toy. Customers, when they first entered the store, were given a simple multi-channel remote that only worked within the boundaries of the shop. The remote, of course, could control the toys of every girl in the store, but the channels weren’t labeled and it would only allow, by default, up to twenty minutes of use per customer. With those twenty minutes, should they decided to participate, they had to identify which channel matched up to any given girl’s toys. Should they figure it out for any one girl, they would get a discount on every product she was wearing. Should they have time remaining, they could try to identify another girl or they could try to make the girl they’d found cum. Each of them wore sensors to track when they climaxed and, if the customer succeeded, said successful customer would receive a significantly larger discount not just on the products the girl was wearing, but on the entire department the orgasming girl was representing. Part of the reason Alice enjoyed this type of event so much was that she herself was, almost always, the favorite target of regulars and newcomers alike. Of all Ellen’s employees, she was easily the most outgoing, cheerful, and high energy. Ellen had no hesitation in making cold blooded use of this, always dressing Alice in an outfit that would go well with her bubbly personality, then sticking her front and center to draw the eye. That she had the hardest time not reacting, but second best control of her own climax, simply made her even more perfect. Virtually anyone who focused on her would get the minor discount, and an eye and earful of squirming, moaning, blonde bombshell, which left them extremely happy. Yet, very few of them would manage to make her cum, which kept the numbers on the larger discounts down. Of course, that she was so naturally responsive and happy also led to the highest number of customers willing to pay a small fee for a few more minutes to push her over the edge, even if they didn’t get the discount if they did so. One way or another, those who focused on her were almost always happy with the results, and so was Ellen. Needless to say, since Alice got a portion of the extra fee, and all the girls got a shop-wide reward based on total sales during the drive, Alice was quite content playing her part as well. An entire day of being driven nuts by remotes, and semi-frequent orgasms, was merely a highly enjoyable bonus, as far as she was concerned. She hummed as she awaited another customer, unconsciously fixing her ruffles. Today she was a maid, clearly of the fetish variety. The outfit consisted of a frilly black and white corset that really showed off her perky C-cups, and an intricate pair of white lace panties only partially covered by the half-hearted suggestion of a skirt. Thigh-high white stockings, a black lace bow in her waist length, platinum blond hair, and a shiny black pair of heels completed the look. She’d protested over the heels; she’d wanted to use the much higher fetish heels the store stocked, instead of the small four-inch option. Ellen had vetoed the addition, wanting to keep her shorter than most costumers, to better pull off the cutely energetic and eager-to-please bahis şirketleri maid. Which left her stuck at a mere 5’6”, even with the heels. She did have to admit the look was working for her, regardless of the heel height. She’d gotten nearly equal numbers of women gushing over how adorable she was, and guys falling in lust with her innocently-naughty pout. Not to mention, of course, a few women who did the latter and men the former. She’d also needed to change out the panties three times in the last hour alone, as her audience was intent on wearing out the batteries in the viciously powerful remote control egg buried inside her. Not that she was complaining. Despite only giving up a single large discount in the four hours she’d been working, she’d cum no less than eleven times. Which, unlike most girls, who’d be flat on the floor from that sort of number, really just perked her up further and made her slightly hyper. Ellen had actually given her a duster at one point and had her attack the store, purely in an attempt to curb the chipmunk-on-a-sugar-high side effect. It had only sort-of worked. She’d burned off some energy, but attracted the attention of a woman who’d managed to force her to cum, twice, inside the time limit. The customer, a regular named Linda, had given her a card and told her to call if she ever needed part-time work. Apparently, she had something of a thing for sexy maids. Her vibe jerked, catching her by surprise. A moan slipped out, and she darted a look around the shop. What on earth? There were only two customers, and it couldn’t be either of them. One was having a quiet but animated discussion with Tinker, hands fully visible and controller free. The other was very clearly using their remote, but it was equally clearly being used to drive Cheryl up the wall. She nearly gasped as the toy nestled in her core went active again, this time tapping out a steady, arrhythmic beat on her insides. It was on a weak setting, but the oddly hypnotic pattern made her want to squirm anyway. She tried, with only limited success, to suppress her reaction, scanning the store for something or someone she’d missed. Was it one of the other girls? Ellen or Mara were the most likely. Mara was visible, doing something on a store mobile, so she didn’t seem likely. Ellen…Ellen was missing, which was a bit suspicious. She’d been hovering near the door to the back room a few minutes ago. She may have just taken a break…but— Her train of thought was broken and an abbreviated gasp slipped out as the toy kicked it up a notch, throwing a harder, stuttering pulse into the pattern of arrhythmic beats. Only, they weren’t quite as arrhythmic as before, the added pulses somehow fitting into the pattern. A quick glance around the store gave no more clues, so she shrugged and went with it, returning her eyes to the shop’s entrance. She was supposed to be on duty as the greeter after all, funneling customers to either the game, or whatever they were looking for. She couldn’t go haring off, trying to sort out who was toying with her. She’d almost grown complacent, a few minutes later, when the pattern changed again. Sharp staccato bursts of the vibe’s highest setting added into the previous pattern of beats. It was no longer arrhythmic now, and the smooth interplay of three different pulse-strengths had her biting her lip, eyes unconsciously closing and a mewl of pleasure falling from her lips. It also wasn’t possible to do this with the customer remotes. They were too simple, both for ease of use, and in case they were stolen. No, someone had the egg’s original manufacture remote, and was playing with her. Knowing this couldn’t be an allowed part of the game, she gave up her failing efforts to suppress her reactions, her breathing deepening and moans falling readily bahis firmaları from her lips. The pattern altered again, reversed. The most frequent, longest beats, were now the most powerful, and the weakest were the shortest and most insubstantial. Her legs almost gave out, and she caught herself on the display behind her. She cried out, on the edge of orgasm, trying to hold it back, then realized there wasn’t a reason to. Not if they weren’t playing by the rules. It was probably her boss, anyway. She reached for her breast, intending to send herself over. Only to have her hand gently grabbed. “None of that now.” Her eyes popped open in alarm, then nearly rolled back in her head as her vibe upshifted into a continuous thrum of its highest setting. She was only just able to register Ellen and Linda in front of her before she lost control, her mind going blank as she peaked violently. The toy didn’t shut off immediately, like it was supposed to for customers, and it drew the already intense climax out until Alice’s legs collapsed under her. Her boss caught her and the toy deactivated. She took several ragged breaths before opening her eyes, closed sometime during the climax, and tried to get her feet under her again. Ellen helped steady her, grinning, but it was Linda’s presence that puzzled her. The woman was studying Alice with an amused grin and bright eyes, hard nipples readily visible through her top. More importantly, the woman had left through the front door over two hours ago. Alice looked at her boss confusedly, hoping for an explanation. Ellen chuckled, pulling her over to one side and setting her still shaky form down on a bondage bench display. “Linda is an old friend. I’ve known her since my university days. So, when she expressed interest in ‘playing with my adorable maid’ a bit more, I went along with it and let her in the back door when she dropped by after work. You’ll get a little bonus for playing along this much, as it wasn’t part of the game and I let her have the full remote, but…” Alice knew that tone. Everyone who worked for Ellen knew it. She was up to some mischief or other. She wouldn’t do anything without the permission of the girl or girls she intended to rope into whatever crazy idea she’d had, but she’d make it worth it for them if they went along. Usually, that meant a day of something fun but daring, and a few free items from the store. As she nearly always took the tastes of the girls involved into account, most of them agreed as a matter of course. Alice gave her a brilliant smile. “Out with it, boss.” Linda laughed. “So good to see your employees know you so well, dear. Shall I ask her, or you?” Ellen pouted outrageously for a few heartbeats before answering, “I will, it was half my idea anyway. Why don’t you pick an outfit out?” Linda’s eyebrow rose. “Before she even says yes?” Ellen rolled her eyes. “It’s Alice, of course she’ll say yes!” That was probably true. In fact, Alice was tempted to say yes before hearing anything, solely to see Linda’s reaction. She couldn’t remember ever not going along with one of Ellen’s plans, but then, she was probably the most open of anyone in the shop to new experiences. Still, Ellen enjoyed convincing them, so she remained quiet as Linda laughed, shook her head, and headed off into the racks of fetish clothing. Ellen didn’t waste any time, turning conspiratorially to Alice and starting her pitch. “So, Linda really wanted to play with you more. Now, we could do that here in the store,” she paused, “if we wanted to be boring! So, I thought, ‘why don’t we take this show on the road?’ Linda and I, we go way back, like I said, and we go on shopping trips from time to time. It’s actually why she stopped in earlier, on her break. We were making plans to go clothes shopping later. She wasn’t kaçak bahis siteleri expecting to fall in love, or at least lust, with an adorable hyperactive maid who was darting around the store dusting things, flashing wet panties.” She playfully pinched Alice’s cheek. Alice yelped and ducked away from her boss, getting a laugh as she brought up her hands to protect herself from further attacks. Looking suspiciously as her boss, she waited until she was at least half sure she wouldn’t try anything else, then guessed, “So you want me to, what? Come with you in a maid outfit?” Ellen nodded, calming slightly, continuing on in a more boss-like tone. “We’ll get you into a maid outfit that will keep you compliant with public code, but still sexy. You’ll act as our maid, doing whatever we ask while we shop.” Her eyes sharpened, tone serious. “You’ll have more toys in, and Linda and I will both play with you however we see fit, within the standard VIP customer rules. Anything beyond that is extra, and this is all outside work so you can offer more if you want. I know I don’t normally stretch things like that, but Linda is much more a friend to me than she is a customer, so I’ll consider this to be a private agreement instead of shop related. On that note, you’ll get paid time off for the rest of the day, but I can’t directly give you anything else this time if I’m stretching the rules. It will have to be mostly for fun. Though, I have a feeling you’ll like Linda, and might even take some work for her on your off days, so it might work out pretty good for you.” She smiled, then leaned in to whispered conspiratorially, “Plus, we can totally buy you stuff on the shopping trip, if you’re off-the-clock.” Alice smiled at the last bit, but held up her hand, head cocked to the side in thought. Usually, Ellen’s adventures stuck to the golden rules of the shop, either the regular rules, or the special rules for VIPs. Both sets restricted what the customers could ask of any of the girls, as well as what the girls could offer. No sex was ever permitted, not even oral. That line was walked finely, at times, through the use of simulators, and didn’t apply at all to consensual acts between employees, but it was never broken. Never. Ellen’s Delight’s was a high-end, respected and respectable sex shop, not a front for prostitution. Under most circumstances even physical contact, of the sexual kind such as groping or kissing, was completely off limits. Which made this very out of the ordinary, as Ellen was effectively telling her those rules could be suspended today, if Alice wanted them to be. The question was, did she? She glanced at Linda, barely visible through the racks of clothing, and frowned. The woman was smoking hot, no doubt about that, almost a match for Ellen herself. She appeared, as little as appearance was worth on someone so clearly gene modded, to be in her late twenties. Tallish, at 5’10”, and sporting what had to be modded E-cups, they were entirely too perky to be completely natural. Deeply tanned skin, an athletic figure, and rich brunette hair. A gorgeous package, no doubt, and a soft but commanding personality, from what Alice had seen. Still, while Alice was up for trying nearly anything, she wasn’t easy. Did she want to get handsy, maybe even have sex, with a total stranger? She glanced over at Ellen. Then again, she might well get some sexy fun with Ellen as well. Which, while hardly uncommon, was rare outside the confines of the shop. Linda was also a good enough friend of Ellen’s for the boss to bend the rules. That certainly said a great deal about the woman. She nodded her head, signaling she’d made a decision. If it had been a guy, there was no way, but with a woman… “I’m up for it, including the extras, within reason. Hands and tongues.” Ellen beamed, then gave a wicked grin. “Oh good. I’ll make sure you regret it in only the very best ways. Now! Let’s get those clothes off.” She ducked behind Alice and started undoing her corset’s laces. Alice just giggled and shifted to make it easier.

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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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A three dimensional transparent cube, a house with the curly rings of smoke coming from the chimney, smiling daisy flowers in the sweeping meadow, and the continuous barn house with an “X” on the front of the barn door. I am becoming an expert artist as I randomly doodle on various pages of my note book, which is now more of a sketch pad. Seminars can be so boring, this one proves to be no different and I am at best, barely engaging with the workshop. The first few speakers are older men with rather stoic speaking styles that hardly leave the ground. One panelist is female, early forties maybe, and is scheduled to close the workshop and answer some questions from the audience. While she covers similar topics as her counterparts, she has a playful, almost coquettish delivery style that truly rejuvenates the room. I immediately take note of her sense of humor and how she tends to pull her brunette waves behind her ear when she smiles. At the end of the workshop, I surprise myself as I raise my hand to pose a question to her based on the information that she provides. Her answer is clear and informative, I think…because as she talks directly to me, I become a bit distracted by how pretty she is. Surviving the full day seminar, my thoughts are on her as I head home, and I wonder what it would be like to talk to her privately. Seminar organizers use email addresses to comprise their mailing lists for future workshops, and within a month, I receive an alert of a workshop that is held in my area. I would normally bypass the focus, but when I notice that the same female presenter is scheduled to speak, I quickly add my name to the registration list. The workshop proves interesting and I am happy to see how the keynoter, once again, maintains the interest of the audience as she expertly fields questions. Standing behind a podium this time, her petite frame barely makes it over five feet and four inches tall. Despite her stature, her presence is commanding and a thunderous round of applause erupts as she concludes her presentation. The roar permeates the room and seeps through the air vents when she offers a feminine wave as she exits the stage. I navigate through the congested lobby on my way out, and I see what looks like a brief, although opportune time to introduce kaçak iddaa myself to her. I walk over to her while she ends her conversation with someone and am met with smiling chestnut eyes and a pearly smile as I readily extend my hand to hers. “Hello, great seminar today! My name is Trinity and I just want to say how informative your presentation was.” “Why thank you, and please call me Melanie, it’s surely a pleasure meeting you.” “I must admit that this is a related field for me and I truly learned a lot from your lecture. I should warn you that I may have more questions as I go along.” “By all means, feel free to reach out anytime. Here, take my card, and keep in touch!” “Will do, and thanks again.” “Don’t mention it.” Melanie crosses my mind several times over the next couple of days and I look for an excuse to contact her. I send an email to her just to cement our exchange the previous week:  Hello Melanie, I hope that this email finds you well and smiling. I just wanted to provide my contact information, as it occurred to me that I didn’t leave my card with you. I hope that you are navigating this weather with some success. Please find my contact information below. Regards, Trinity. Within an hour, I receive her reply:  Trinity, Thank you so much for this email, I was hoping to hear from you. I have been asked to speak on a topic that could use your expertise and I was wondering if we could consult and discuss it further. Perhaps over lunch? My treat of course, let me know if that works for you. Take care, Melanie. Melanie and I live two states apart and coordinate a date and time to meet for lunch the following week. New Jersey is a halfway point between us and she suggests the Grand Lux Café in Paramus. The décor is upscale and the marble floors and hand blown glass fixtures burst with quality themed Venetian accents. The menu follows suit and reads like a creation from the best Italian trattorias and French bistros in Europe. She claims our table before I arrive, and as I enter, she allows the smile that hangs in the corners of her mouth to expand across her coral lips. The setting and the exchange of friendly emails over the last couple of weeks put me well at ease with her, as I return her smile with one of my own. The handshake quickly morphs into kaçak bahis a soft hug and my nose pulls in the floral scent of her hair as we embrace. Her peach colored silk blouse is as soft as her hand as she presses into me, and looks great against her ivory complexion. “Thank you so much for coming. How was the traffic on the way down?” Down… “Oh no problem, my pleasure. The ride down was fine, it’s my drive home in rush hour traffic that will crush me.” “Yes, I know what you mean, I am in the same boat going home myself. Shall we get started…?” Munching on spinach and cheese dip as Melanie enjoys her omelet with tomato, lunch is productive and interesting to say the least. We consult about her next presentation, share insight and ideas about our fields and compare notes on who we both know in key places. Time clearly gets away from us and when I glance at my cell phone, I am surprised to see the time say 5:21 PM. “Will you look at the time? I-95 and the Merritt Parkway will be like a parking lot at this hour.” “Damn, you’re right! How about we have a cocktail? I know a great place twenty minutes west from here and it’s happy hour now.” “Good idea, and sounds better than waiting in traffic, let’s go.” While I follow behind her in the quiet of my SUV, I replay our luncheon. Melanie is warm, friendly and engaging and though I consider myself to be a strictly heterosexual woman, I can easily see how any man can find her very sexy and appealing. We arrive at the Red Stone Tavern and the crowd consists of other licensed professionals like ourselves, full of business suits and business cards, networking and being social. “This is a nice place Mel, do you come here often?” “Yup, I’m from South Jersey, this is my neck of the woods.” “Oh wow, nice.” Mel enjoys a spicy bloody Mary, I order a fuzzy navel and we talk quietly at a corner table. As we enjoy our drinks, the professional side of our conversation begins to relax. Melanie shares that she’s been happily married for almost twenty years, is a mother of two, and lives an overall happy life. I sip my drink and share personal details about my life as well, and we realize how much we really have in common. After my second drink, I’m sure that the traffic subsides, and I reluctantly bid Melanie goodbye and head home. illegal bahis Despite the car radio being on, I am lost in my thoughts about her during my drive. Her femininity, her smell, and how attractive I find her. It’s been years since I have thought about a woman in a sexual way, but I can’t deny the pull I feel towards her. What color bra goes with a peach silk blouse? What kind of panties does she like? What scent was that in her hair? I arrive home and after I undress in the bathroom, I toss my moist panties into the hamper. Wait, what….? Over time, professional emails are more personal and frequent. Ultimately, we segue into text messages and phone calls a few times per week, and she becomes quite a good friend. Ultimately, she discloses that she is bisexual and that while her husband is permissive of her sexual desires, she is discreet with the female lover that she has had for years now. I shakily reconfirm my heterosexuality to her, but disclose my own past sexual experiences with two different women that I had while in my late teens and early twenties. Melanie invites me to a banquet dinner that she and her husband attend. Her husband is a confident and handsome man, and seemingly a good fit for her. I can’t help but wonder how much he must enjoy having her in bed and exploring her body. After the banquet, we have dessert and drinks at her home and her husband soon retires to bed, citing an early rise the next morning. Melanie and I remain on her couch and now with my shoes off, I tuck my stocking laden legs under me as I sip Moscato. Seated five feet from me, her bare feet are pale and her toenails are painted a deep burgundy. I feel the alcohol coursing through my central nervous system and it makes my skin warmer by the second. Melanie swallows her last sip of Cabernet and looks at me while she refills her glass. As she pours her drink, I can see her lipstick print on the glass where her lips were. I want to take her glass and place my lips on that lipstick spot and taste her smile. “You don’t think about women in a sexual way anymore, Trin?” Tension. “…No, my experiences were great, but it was merely a passing phase. I haven’t desired a woman in over fifteen years, Mel.” Until you, right now… “Oh ok, I find that having that outlet really helps me balance things at home, I enjoy it fully.” “I can understand that for sure, and you are lucky to have such an understanding husband.” “As long as I am discreet and keep it to women only, that’s our deal.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Long before she let herself through the front door it was obvious to Tabitha that Sunbeam was home. From several doors down the suburban street she could hear the sound of seventies heavy metal and, accompanying the record, Sunbeam’s own guitar playing that was roughly, but not exactly, in tune. It was a wonder the neighbours didn’t complain more than they did. As always, Tabitha couldn’t help noticing the remarkable similarity between Sunbeam’s own song compositions and those on the rock music records she accompanied. Sunbeam’s father had given his daughter a comprehensive collection of vinyl records that represented his musical tastes before they shifted toward the anodyne whine of AOR away from the squawking cat-shriek and doomy chords of the records he’d enjoyed in his adolescence. At least in Sunbeam’s hands, the records hadn’t gone to waste. Tabitha was the manager of Excess Baggage, the all-girl rock group for which Sunbeam was principal composer, singer and lead guitarist. However, she still had difficulty in relating her best friend from school, her first lover and the girl who used to deal pills in the school playground as Sunbeam, rock star. She still hadn’t become accustomed to how much the stage name had superseded her real name. In fact, Tabitha even sometimes forgot what it was. But, as Tabitha reflected, pushing aside the bicycle propped against the hallway radiator and easing off her Dr Martin’s airwear boots, the fortunes of Excess Baggage had a long way to go yet until Tabitha could afford to drop her gig as a Hard House DJ at the Marsh Club. Or until Sunbeam, for that matter, could close shop on her small-scale dealing. And if Sunbeam’s brother wasn’t so generous in allowing his sister and her sister’s best friend to share his suburban semi, would they ever have found somewhere else they could afford to live? “Hiya, sweetheart!” Tabitha announced, pushing open the living room door, knowing exactly what sight would greet her. And, indeed, no surprise at all. There was Sunbeam, cross-legged in the middle of the room, wearing only the baggy pair of thin cotton shorts they had brought back from their holiday in Morocco last year. Her rather large breasts overshadowed the guitar resting on her lap and strapped around her shoulder, and all around her, and spread in all directions were album sleeves, black twelve-inch vinyl records gathering dust, a coffee mug, ashtrays, cigarette packets and a small plastic bag where Sunbeam stored her stash. A soggy roach languished in the ashtray amongst the cigarette butts. Sunbeam raised her head toward Tabitha, a slightly stoned smile across her face, while she pushed a curtain of mousy-brown hair off her eyes. “Hiya, cherry bomb!” Sunbeam replied, pulling a cigarette out of a packet and lighting it up. “Hey! What’s the tune? It’s a lot like your Pussy Power, only the lyrics aren’t quite the same.” “It’s by Atomic Rooster,” replied Sunbeam. “And fuck, Tabby, if I hadn’t changed the lyrics people would twig where I get my inspiration from.” Tabitha nodded. She had guessed long ago that just as a techno or house DJ might build up a composition by sampling vinyl records, Sunbeam did much the same with her own song writing. And the more obscure the record, the less likely that anyone would figure out where it came from. So, Sunbeam’s father’s old records, by the likes of Bad Company, Led Zeppelin, Deep Purple, Pink Fairies, Budgie and Vanilla Fudge were taking on a new life in the copyrighted songbook of Excess Baggage. Although Sunbeam joked about her systematic theft of the heavy metal legacy to deflect the criticism she so wholly deserved, Tabitha wasn’t even so sure that her friend bahis siteleri drew the line at just lifting the guitar chords. Her song lyrics on demons, fast cars, hobbits, guns and sex bore ever such a similarity to those of the selfsame rock groups. Although the sex of which she sang did not generally involve the participation of men. “And Tabby, sweetest, I’ve had a thought…” remarked Sunbeam, blowing smoke out through her nostrils. “Yeah?” wondered Tabitha, sitting down on the sofa and crossing her long black legs. She twiddled a plaited hair extension in her ring-festooned fingers. “Excess Baggage is just too long a name. We ought to drop the ‘Baggage’ bit. Just call the band ‘Excess’.” “‘Excess’? Wasn’t there a group in the eighties or nineties called that?” “It was called ‘InXS’. Bunch of ozzies. Anyway, they only ever did one decent song. I think ‘Excess’ would be a much better name than ‘Excess Baggage’.” “But everything we’ve done or promoted has been as ‘Excess Baggage’, sweetheart. We can’t just change it.” “Course we fucking can! Massive Attack changed their name to Massive. Tyrannosaurus Rex changed theirs to T. Rex. Electric Light Orchestra became just fucking ELO. Loads of groups have changed their names. And anyway, a name like ‘Excess’ would be more appropriate for the group’s image than ‘Excess Baggage’. It makes us sound like some kind of fucking modern jazz group or garage house crew. We’re a fucking rock group. Rock music’s always been about excess. And it’s about time we had the right kind of fucking name!” Although Tabitha was reluctant to admit it, even to herself, the name was especially appropriate given Sunbeam’s more recent tendencies. She was certain that Sunbeam was consuming at least as many drugs as she sold, and although she only dabbled in heroin, Tabitha wasn’t sure she would never become addicted. And the sex! As her drug consumption increased, Sunbeam seemed to have lost her ability to discriminate. She called herself ‘polyamorous’, which Tabitha first misheard as ‘polyandrous’, which was nonsense given her stated sexual preference. But although Tabitha confined her interest to women, and still had frequent sex with Sunbeam, despite them no longer being an item, her friend had now developed an enthusiastic taste for sex with men as well. This shocked Tabitha at first. But she and Sunbeam had already chosen to sleep in separate rooms, and that wasn’t only because of Sunbeam’s frequent and open infidelity. Tabitha had sensed, sometimes too acutely, that she had become Sunbeam’s token black woman lover and that the emotional content of their love, so intense in their early teens, had become subsumed by considerations of outward appearance. It had been difficult for Tabitha to reconcile her sexuality and her love for her parents, who were traditional black Baptists and so thoroughly appalled by Tabitha’s unholy sexual preference that only the genuineness of their Christian love kept them from disowning their daughter. Sunbeam never experienced a predicament like that. Her parents had never hidden from her either their indulgence in soft drugs or their participation in swinging sex parties. And, as Tabitha only gradually came to appreciate, their daughter was intent on attaining a degree of libertarianism that even her parents had never entertained. So, Sunbeam not only distracted herself with hard drugs and sex with men, but also (and this disturbed Tabitha rather more than she imagined possible) sex with her own brother. But what upset Tabitha the most wasn’t so much the fact of incest (a word that seemed to lose some of its meaning when applied to a real life situation), but that Sunbeam considered it canlı bahis siteleri as some kind of a token achievement, to tick off as something she’d done, like having a black lesbian lover, like having sex with two or three men at the same time, like drinking her lover’s urine, like dropping GHB, like fucking that boy they’d met in that Moroccan hotel, and, like, as Tabitha had to admit, having sex on stage during a gig. “Well, after that time at the Willow, I guess Excess isn’t a bad name at all!” exclaimed Tabitha before leaning over to help herself to a plastic bag of grass lying on the ground. “Oh fuck, Tabby! You don’t fucking forget, do you!” Tabitha shook free some papers from her packet of Rizlas, and licked the edge of them before piecing together the two-and-a-half skinner she was so adept at constructing. “I didn’t agree to be your manager as well as do my own gigs just to run some kind of fucking sex show, Sunbeam.” “It was only the once. It’s like the music got to me…” “Or the coke. Or the E. Or some other stuff. And did Joanne really want you to stick that dildo right up her twat like that?” “When Joanne’s on stage and she’s ‘Marsh Mallow’, she’s like real uninhibited.” “It can’t be easy to play bass and have someone pull down her jeans, lick her clit and shove a dildo up her front. But Joanne’s performing as Marsh Mallow, bassist, not Marsh Mallow, porn star. And since when have you gone from just partial nudity, which we always agreed was OK, to full on stark naked? No wonder we’re getting more men in the audience and fewer of the old lesbian crowd.” “You’re just being fucking preachy. Just like your dad. But what about it, Tabby? Shall we change the name to ‘Excess’?” “It’s a lot of hard work you know. There’s a lot of promo stuff I’ve got to change. And I’ve got that gig in Stockport on Friday.” “When d’you think we could get it done? I told the other girls: Joanne, Prissy, Anita and Carla. They think it’s gonna be for the gig on Saturday.” “I guess I’ll be able to do that,” Tabitha sighed, knowing that she wouldn’t have much time to buy new discs for her big session at the Tick Tack. She’d just have to hope the record shops in Manchester had some decent tunes she could feature. Tabitha was exhausted when she got back from Stockport, having snatched only a few hours doze in the back of her battered Astra at a service station. She didn’t have much time to do more than unload her record boxes in the hallway, with the assistance of Sunbeam’s brother, Tom, who as always was trying to persuade her to have sex with him. “Sorry, Tom. I’m what it says on the label,” Tabitha said with a grim smile after Tom had made his latest overture. “Where’s Sunbeam?” “She’s at Anita’s. Or Sticky Goo as she calls herself now.” “I guess I’ll just have to hope she makes it to the Fig and Firkin for tonight,” Tabitha sighed, knowing that when Anita and Sunbeam started making love it was often quite a huge effort to separate them. And if Carla got involved, well, they’d either be late or thoroughly wasted. Or more likely, both. The landlord at the Fig and Firkin watched Tabitha as she set up the stage equipment with the help of Prissy and Joanne. As always, Sunbeam was not one of the first to arrive, and the fact that Anita and Carla were also not there made Tabitha fear the worst. “So it’s gonna just be a dyke crowd, is it?” remarked the landlord from the bar stool where he sat. “A load of grrrls with short hair and jumble sale chic. But what’s this I hear about your group attracting the boys now?” Tabitha knew exactly what the landlord was hinting at. “The group’s emerging from the dyke ghetto. That’s all.” “I heard that your singer’s canlı bahis been having sex on stage. Not just taking her clothes off, which I don’t mind. I quite like a flash of tit, me. But actually like fucking doing it on stage. I’ve got a license to worry about, you know. This isn’t fucking Soho.” “That’s just crap, Phil. And you know it. It’s just queer consciousness. Getting away from denying our sexuality. That kind of thing. There’s not gonna be any sex on stage.” “I dunno. You’ve changed the name. What kind of ‘excess’ are you intending to represent?” “An excess of political correctness, Phil. What d’you think? Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got to test the sound system.” Tabitha’s assurances were rather wasted. When Sunbeam arrived, she, Carla and Anita were quite obviously still high, not helped by a pint of beer drunk at the bar while Tabitha did a DJ set, mixing some of Sunbeam’s rather dull heavy metal records with the hard house she much preferred. And then, finally, the group ascended the stage for the first time ever in their current incarnation. “So give it up for Excess!” announced the landlord. “That’s Sunbeam, Sticky Goo, Marsh Mallow, Krakatoa and Daffodil!” The five girls strode onto the small stage, Sunbeam and Sticky Goo carrying their guitars and Marsh Mallow her bass guitar. Krakatoa, or Prissy, seated herself behind the drum kit. And Daffodil, or Carla, behind the synths. As they appeared, the crowd, many of whom were the same ones who’d been following the group for over a year now, erupted into a huge applause. Tabitha noticed with alarm that Sunbeam had already taken off all her clothes and was standing on stage with her guitar slung around her, just beneath her heavy breasts, and a pair of fourteen-hole Dr Martin’s on her feet. She strode up to the microphone, took it in one hand, but didn’t lift it off the stand, pushed her hair off her face and for a moment looked quite bewildered. Only the applause and cheers from the audience filled the space. And then she slurred into the microphone. “Hello, Fig and Fucking Firkin! We’re gonna fucking rock you!” And with that, Daffodil, Marsh Mallow and Krakatoa launched into ‘Hot Dyke Dreaming’, always a good starter, with its swirling Deep Purple organ chords, its Guns & Roses guitar sound and that thumping beat that sounded ever so much like ‘Purple Haze’. Tabitha noticed with relief that the coke and beer hadn’t too aversely affected Sunbeam’s singing voice. Nor her guitar-playing. Not that anyone would really have noticed with the poor pub acoustics. In fact, the most wasted was probably Carla who, at one stage, actually used the wrong programming sample, of which she only became aware after Marsh Mallow strode across the stage, wearing what most people might consider to be her underwear, and pointed it out to her. Tabitha settled down on a stool at the back of the stage, a pint of real ale in one hand, the least strong available, and a cigarette in the other. She didn’t actually much enjoy the music Sunbeam’s group played. Rock music sounded rather predictable and dull to her ears, and even when the lyrics were filtered through a lesbian consciousness they really didn’t have the depth she associated with the soul or hip hop she preferred. And even though she got quite a high from caning hard house, it was generally a tape by someone like Macy Gray or Miss Dynamite that she put on when she drove back home after a gig. However, it was evident that Excess was doing something right. The number of people who turned up at an Excess gig was steadily rising. In the early days of Excess Baggage, when the name was meant as an ironic statement of there being two sexes, rather than just the one, there would have been only a couple of dozen people in the audience, all women, and almost all just friends or ex-lovers of the group members. Now the place was full to capacity, and the crowd was quite a mix.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Nicki and Darrell were sitting on Darrell’s livingroom couch smooching. Sometimes Darrell’s kisses were mere pecks; other times full on the lips and passionate; and sometimes his tongue slid deep into Nicki’s mouth, working it. As they necked Darrell’s left hand slid up and down Nicki’s creamy right thigh. During a break Darrell said:

“You know, I don’t normally like pantyhose. Reminds me of my wife. But on you they—”

“What reminds you of your wife?” Georgia said from ten feet away, hands on her thick hips, a designer bag slung over a meaty right shoulder.

“No,” Darrell hastened to say, twisting his head toward his wife. “I was just saying…His pantyhose…reminds me of you, darling.”

“Huh!” Georgia spat doubtfully. “When’s the last time you ever stroked my legs like that?”

“Well, I…”

“This one’s in pantyhose,” she said, commenting on the obvious. “That’s a first for you.”

“Not really. Isn’t she cute though?” Darrell beamed, hoping to turn the conversation.

“He is,” Georgia admitted, albeit disdainfully. “Have fun with him. I’m headed out for a few hours.”

At the door Georgia turned back to add, “Be safe.”

“Always,” Darrell confirmed, to the slammed door.

A petrified Nicki pushed a forward curl of blonde from her ruby lips and said, whispered for some reason, as if the fire-breather were still in the room: “I don’t think she likes me.”

Darrell pulled away saying, “It’s not you. It’s me.”

“You?”

“How would you like it…?” a rising Darrell posed, after collecting their empty drink glasses. “You’re married to a guy for 30 years. One day he comes out as bisexual. Actively bisexual. She catches you in the act a couple of times. She wants to keep the marriage together,” Darrell continued on from the kitchen, the granite-topped counter, the bottles of booze, “so she agrees to let you have your fun. Condition being,” ice cubes in the short, squat glasses, flavored vodka splashing in, “you have to be completely open about it. She has to know who, where, when. And most importantly what,” he added, handing Nicki her cold drink.

“She’s always here?” Nicki inquired.

“No, she goes out,” Darrell replied, having flopped heavily on the couch next to today’s date.

“No. I mean…at first.”

“Not necessarily. But she heard I was having somebody new over so…,” taking a first sip of his second drink, “…I guess she wanted to see for herself.”

“Oh. Well I won’t feel special then,” a bit of an attitude—resentment—flaring in Nicki’s masculine voice.

A smiling Darrell gave Nicki’s stockinged thigh a pat and said, “You’re special to me. Just not exclusive. Not yet.”

“You play around a lot.”

“I’ve had my share. People come and go. Lose interest. Move away…Damn!” Darrell said, abruptly changing course. He was looking down at the relatively flattened fly of his trousers. “I was getting hard there a minute ago…”

“So was I,” Nicki admitted. Beneath her nude sheer-to-waist pantyhose Nicki wore a brightly variegated Jockey-brand bikini panty. One it would have been hard for Georgia to have missed before she stormed out the door. One of the dominant colors in panty’s swirl was teal, and so too was Nicki’s (empty) B-cup bra. Couple all that with the platinum-blonde wig, crimson lipstick (now smeared) and teal eyeshadow and…yes, indeed. Nicki was cute!

Now she leaned a bare shoulder into Darrell and said, “I can get you hard again.”

“I know you can. You will,” he smiled back. “With that sweet mouth of yours? But there’s no rush. She won’t be back for hours.”

“She have a friend, too?” Nicki’s smiling eyes narrowing.

“A friend. Like a…girlfriend?”

“No, a…”

“It’s harder for women,” Darrell declared. As if he were some kind of expert on the subject. “With men you just…post a few dick pics and…But with women it’s gotta be this whole routine. They wanna be wooed step by step and all this shit. Plus they have bahis şirketleri kids, get fat and ugly…”

“I wouldn’t say she’s fat.”

“Stout. There’s not exactly a ton of guys out there looking for a fifty-something gal with baggage.”

“Baggage?”

“Well, me for starters,” Darrell laughed.

“Revenge,” Nicki mused, after a pause. With his right hand Darrell had now gone back to stroking Nicki’s long, slender thigh.

“Revenge?”

“A revenge fuck.”

“Georgia?” Darrell pulling back. “Her? I don’t think so. Not her style. Revenge shopping is more like it. You should see her closet.”

“I wouldn’t mind seeing her underwear drawer.” Then, answering Darrell’s point-blank stare: “It’s a joke. I was joking.”

“Well there’s probably plenty enough in there for everybody. Victoria’s Secret? She practically lives there.”

“Yum.”

Nicki brushed more blonde from her powdered cheeks and asked: “So what’s in it for her?”

“What?”

“You get to cheat on her with other men…”

“It’s not cheating if she knows about it,” Darrell sternly advised.

“You know what I mean…”

“A bigger allowance,” he replied.

“Allowance?”

Darrell spit an ice cube out of his mouth after draining his glass of 80 proof drink. “I increased her monthly allowance by a grand.”

“Your wife gets an allowance?”

Darrell nodded. “Why not? She’s always gotten an allowance. I was the bread-winner all those years. Still am with my investments. She raised the kids, I gave her a monthly allowance. After my first marriage I vowed never to have a joint anything anymore.”

“Oh,” Nicki acknowledged, blinking back the disbelief. “I guess that’s one way of doing it…”

“And I upped her cut of the inheritance ten percent. You know how it is. Us old guys always kick the bucket first. Our kids get the rest.

“I said to her…,” Darrell decided to go on, “…’you’re stealing from Peter to pay Paul’ but…she said it would all go to them eventually anyway. I see her point.”

“I guess,” Nicki ventured, “it’s the least you can do.”

“She deserves it, yes. No question.”

And with that Darrell blasted off the couch in awkward pursuit of two refills. “One more drink, hon, then I’ll let you go to work on my cock. And I hope you’re good at it ’cause these days, even with the little blue pill, I need a lot of work.”

“Can’t wait!” Nicki smiled, crossing then recrossing her shimmery legs.

“The only thing about pantyhose,” a naked and fairly erect Darrell said, “is you have to pull ’em down to get at your ass. Or a pussy. Or in your case,” he laughed, “your man-pussy.”

“I can take ’em off if you—”

“No, stay put. I kinda like you like this. Stockings and panties down around your knees?”

Darrell had already reamed Nicki’s hole with a lubed middle finger, declaring that his date was obviously no virgin. Now he put the head of his cock to her stretched anus and pushed in.

“Can you feel it?” he asked, insecurely.

“Oh yeah,” Nicki assured him, wishing all the while her fuck-mate were a bit stiffer. Thickness and lengthwise he was fine. A real mouthful. Delicious flesh!

“So you say she’s caught you a couple of times?” Nicki recalled.

“No, it’s all out in the open,” his cock now having slid all the way in, after an extra encouraging push or two.

“No I mean before that.”

“Oh yeah, right. That sealed the deal,” Darrell beginning his tentative motion. “That’s what brought it to a…head. She said… ‘If you’re gonna have sex with other men at least do it when I’m not around.’ And I said, ‘But I didn’t expect you back!’ And she got an attitude on and said, ‘No, why would you? I just live here!’ Can you feel me in you OK?”

“Fine. Fuck me.”

“I am.”

“I love it.”

“My cock?”

“Your cock in me, darling.”

“Darling? I love it.”

“Fuck me harder.”

“I’m going as fast as I can right now, hon. Give me a bahis firmaları chance. Anyway…,” a somewhat already winded Darrell prepared to go on, picking up the previous thread. “She said ‘If you’re gonna have sex with other men in our house—anywhere…a) you’ve gotta get the vaccine, b) I’ve gotta know about it first, when, where, who…and c) if you’re gonna have sex with me you gotta wear a rubber.’

“And I said even if I get the vaccine? And she said, ‘Fuck, yeah!’ Not that we really ever have sex anymore anyway. Part of the reason I turned to guys like you. Girl I mean, sorry.”

“It’s OK.”

“I do like the look of your little balls hangin’ down, hon…Cute!”

“I used to stretch ’em.”

“Stretch?”

“Hang weights from ’em,” Nicki, on elbows and knees, her roomy rectum being reamed, explained. “I always wanted low-hangers,” she went on.

Laughter bubbled—literally—to Darrell’s lips. It threw his rhythm off.

“What?” Nicki wondered.

“I don’t know…seems weird that’s all. A man who wants to be a woman but wants his manhood to hang low. Lower. Seems like you’d want to—”

“I enjoy being both,” Nicki informed her latest fuckmate. “I like dressing fem, being fem, but I also enjoy having a cock and balls.”

“I enjoy it, too. It’s…hot, baby! I’m gonna cum in you y’know.”

“That’s OK.”

“I’m not asking your permission. It’s just gonna…that’s the way it is.”

“Fine. Shoot your load in me, hon, when you’re ready. I want your sperm inside me when I get home.”

Darrell sounded mildly alarmed: “You can’t stick around afterwards?”

“If…you want me to.”

“I was hoping we could have another drinky-poo. I’m not one of those guys who, you know, loses interest the minute his dick wilts.”

“That would be…great.”

Darrell was rising to the task—even though his penis was horizontal. The longer he fucked, it seemed, the stiffer he got. Or maybe it was just the Viagra at last fully kicking in. For Nicki the fuck was getting downright pleasurable now. Orgasmic in the internal, female sense of the word. Leading Nicki to utter a silent:

Oh!

“You’re getting tighter.”

“You’re getting bigger!”

“Am I?”

Nicki, mouth open and susceptible to a drool, nodded her hanging blonde head.

“You have a sweet ass, Nicki,” her fuckmate praised. “I normally like someone with a little more meat on their bones, but…”

Nicki regained her bearings in time to say, “So…she never watches?”

“Who? Georgia?”

Another below-parallel nod.

“Fuck no. Aside from those times she caught me in the act? No. She wants to know in advance who’s coming over, and she wants to know afterwards what we did. ‘He sucked my cock.'”

“That’s what you’re gonna tell her…about us?”

“No. I’m just giving an…example. She already met you. She knows you’re a transgender type, a—”

“Crossdresser.”

“Crossdresser, exactly. We sat on the couch for a little while, you sucked my cock, we fucked…”

“You’ll tell her that?”

“Not in detail, but…”

“But she saw us kissing…”

“Kissing is OK. Just none of the hot and heavy stuff while she’s still in the house.”

“She’s really, you know, from your perspective, our perspective…a kind of saint.”

“She is. I agree. One in a million…Who could ask for more? I mean really? Given my…

“I’m cumming,” Darrell quietly announced.

“I can feel it.”

“I’m cumming in you,” Darrell repeated, his motion gone erratic.

“Let it go, darling. Pump it in me. Every drop!”

“I…am.”

Darrell pulled out. It was over. Just…like…that. No screams or shouts, no drama. No windows rattled.

“Oooof,” Darrell exhaled. Something to that effect, his cock drooping.

“I’ll get a towel,” Nicki gaily volunteered.

“OK but not one of the—”

“I’ll get it,” a voice from behind said. And Georgia, taking long strides, semi-goose-stepped from bedroom kaçak bahis siteleri doorway to bathroom, returning with a damp hand towel. “Here,” she tossed—at the revolving Nicki.

“Don’t sit down on my sheets with that dirty ass of yours,” the wife advised her husband’s lover.

“No, I…”

“It’s not dirty,” Darrell protested. “Clean as a—”

“I don’t want lube all over my sheets, Darrell.”

“Oh.”

“Wipe your ass and then wipe his cock off,” she directed.

“Yes ma’am. I—”

“Don’t call me ma’am. Underneath that wig and makeup you’re probably old as I am.”

“I…”

As Darrell was getting his cock gently wiped he said, “Darling, what are you—”

“Don’t darling me,” Georgia back in the doorway now, hands on her hips.

“Doing home so early?”

“A bomb threat. They evacuated the mall. Plus…I wanted to see what you’re getting up to these days. This one, with his panties and pantyhose and all.”

“Well, I—”

“Where’d you dig him up?”

“His—her name is Nicki, darling. Meet Nicki. She answered my ad.”

It was Georgia’s turn to exclaim something doubtful like “Oooof! Whatever. Are there any tits in that bra?”

“No,” Nicki replied.

“Uh, no,” Darrell replied.

“Then she’s not a she. And she’s definitely not a she with”—pointing, downward, Nicki’s panties and hose still halfway down her thighs—”those little things dangling.”

“He used to stretch ’em,” Darrell offered, for no reason in particular.

Georgia frowned. “You get weirder by the hour. Both of you.”

“What’ve I got to do with it?” a self-martyred Darrell asked.

“You invited him over didn’t you!”

“I…I’ll get going now,” Nicki offered, pulling her underwear up.

“Why? Don’t leave on my account.”

Darrell had been slumping. Standing slumped, his penis clean however. He thrust his shoulders back now and smiled. “I know! Let’s all sit down and have a drink. The three of us! Get to know each other better…”

“You’re dreaming, right? I don’t want to know him/her better. I’ve just seen everything I need to know about you two. I’m going in the guest bedroom,” emphasis on guest, “and watch my program. You two…can do whatever gay men do after they…whatever.”

“I’m not gay!” Darrell protested, as his wife turned heel and departed.

“I’ll leave.”

“That was weird.”

“Give me a minute to change into my street clothes and…”

“She’s never done that before. You think there was really a bomb threat?”

Nicki shrugged. “There’s bomb threats everywhere these days.”

“True.” Darrell thought a short moment before suggesting, “Let’s go have that drink…”

“You’re kidding, right? After what just happened?”

“What happened? She saw what she already knew about. She’s going to her room. She sleeps in there anyways these days. Think,” Darrell asked, looking pointedly at Nicki in her alluring wig, “we still sleep together? Let’s go have that drink. I think, I’m just sayin…I may’ve found something here.”

“Something?” a confused, conflicted Nicki inquired, as Darrell put his guiding arm around her bare waist.

“The woman I’ve always wanted.”

“Me?”

“Obedient. Subservient. And most importantly…not a bitch.”

Nicki laughed as Darrell guided her slender, freshly inseminated body to the granite counter, the booze.

“What?”

“Oh,” Nicki started to explain, wondering if she should. “There’s a line in Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises.”

“Yeah?”

“‘Not being a bitch…it’s sort of what we have instead of God.'”

“Who said that?”

“Uh…”

“You saying my wife’s a bitch?”

“No, I—”

“She’s certainly not God, is she?”

“Well…”

Nicki, again pushing her bob’s forward curl of blonde from smeary red lips, watched as Darrell plopped a pair of runny cubes into the square glasses and followed with a healthy splash each of flavored vodka. Darrell toasted:

“To new beginnings.”

“You want me back?”

“Fuck yeah, hon!”

“Good!”

“You?”

“Of course! Any time!”

“And the good thing is,” Darrell advised after taking a sip. “Georgia likes you. I can tell.”

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