The Frog Prince – Part One. (An adult fairy-tale)

For J. Here’s to a new beginning. <3

The Frog Prince

(Part One)

Are we sitting comfortably? We are? Then I’ll begin.

Once upon a time in a galaxy far, far away there was an evil galactic empire… Oh shit! Sorry, wrong story. Let’s start again.

Once upon a time in land far, far away… That is if you were walking but if you took a plane then you could be there in no time at all, maybe after watching a couple of movies and scoffing down some of those nice in-flight meals. If that’s your plan then I recommend, when booking your ticket, requesting the non-standard meals like vegetarian or kosher so you get served first.

Ok, I’m getting off track. If I do this again then please pull me up on it or I’ll ramble on for hours, forget where I was and we’ll never get finished.

So once upon a time, yada-yada-yada, in this far away land lived a beautiful woman called Aunt Francesca. She was so named because; well because Francesca was her name and she happened to be an aunt. It seems pretty self-explanatory, doesn’t it? I hope I’m not going to have to explain everything to you. Am I?

Now the beautiful Aunt Francesca lived in an expensive house, in an expensive suburb which overlooked a very expensive river.

What makes a river expensive? You may well ask. Well, go on, ask.

Unlike a cheap and bog-standard river this one always flowed with the most polite and gentle tranquillity. It was always clean and fresh. It never ran too fast or too slow but “just right” and the water reflected the sunlight and moonlight with a shimmering perfection. If that wasn’t enough it also made the cutest burbling and gurgling sounds as it tumbled over some high-end, top of the line designer rocks but never too loudly to be a disturbance. But most importantly, no matter what the season the river always kept a steady level and never ran dry or flooded the houses that sat upon its banks because that sort of behaviour would have been very rude and quite terribly common. This was a highly respectable and well-behaved river because that’s the way it was raised to be and all those who lived along its bucolic banks appreciated that.

And so it was into this small kingdom of wealth, privilege and exquisite good taste that one fine day came a young Princess. Now for all you rowdy republicans out there can I just say, she wasn’t a real Princess, so please put away your pitchforks and guillotine.

So, not a real Princess. Not like if a Daddy-king fucked a Mummy-Queen and they didn’t use a condom because they were too drunk after that Grand Ball. Although he had promised to pull out before the big moment… Well, you know how it is after a few too many giddy cotillions; when you’re off-your-face pissed from far too many bottles of “Champers” and decide you just have to have some of that hot royal “totty” doggy-style on the palace balcony?

Trust me, shit like that really happens. And that’s how you get a “real” Princess.

But as I’ve said, not a real Princess. There was no royalty in her family except for maybe Great Uncle Bob who a few years ago changed her name (and other things) to Queen Titania and now lives down south with her partner, Puck. But that’s a fairy-tale for another time.

For this tall tale of truthfulness our Princess is so named, Michelle. She was given the title “Princess” by her Aunt Francesca who doted on her and crowned her so during one of her infrequent flying visits. Aunt Francesca had the tendency to swoop in on a moment’s notice with presents and kisses, spread magic and joy, and then leave again in a flash. But everyone loved her for the magic she brought into their lives and Michelle was no exception.

To Aunt Francesca, little Michelle was a sweet and perfect child who was all love and light. Of course she only saw her on those brief, well-behaved, occasions and for only a few hours at a time when she passed in and out of the family’s life. She wasn’t there when Michelle had that infamous case of diarrhoea which was so bad they had to repaint the ceiling, it took four coats. Or the time, at age eight, she decided to give all the neighbourhood boys an anatomy lesson in “What’s the difference between girls and boys?” This incident wouldn’t have been so bad except for the part where she charged for the privilege of looking in her knickers. It all came to light when her little brother complained to their parents because she wouldn’t give him a family discount. Also, Aunt Francesca wasn’t there the time the cops had to be called in, including a horse mounted riot squad, to break up her eighteenth birthday party. Of course Aunt Francesca has seen the video of the naked woman galloping down the street on one of the riot squad horses. Yes, she saw the naked woman, riding up and down the street yelling and screaming and waving either a police baton or a very large dildo at the gathering crowd. She saw “said naked woman” being chased by an angry, embarrassed and very dismounted police officer. But as she rightly points out, the riot squad helmet the naked woman is wearing completely masks her identity. So just because the naked woman is wearing a satin sash, which covers the right bits to make it YouTube safe, and it reads “Birthday Girl” is not true and proper proof that her dear and precious “Princess” was the one who went all Lady Godiva for the local and national six o’clock, nine o’clock and eleven o’clock news.

But at this moment in time when Princess Michelle arrives in Aunt Francesca’s little kingdom she doesn’t bring her usual badness and gladness. No, on this occasion she unfortunately brings only a heart-weary sadness with her.

For you see, Princess Michelle was here to get away for a time from her old life. Or to be more precise, she wanted to get away from her bastard of a boyfriend. That same bastard of a boyfriend who she’d caught in the act of going down on her supposed best friend. If that double betrayal wasn’t enough she also had to face that they’d been doing it in the bed that she’d just finished paying for. Just like everything else in their third-floor flat because the talentless prick was having a tough time breaking into the music business. She loved that bed. It had taken her an age to find one she liked and with a mattress that gave her a good night’s sleep and didn’t leave her feeling like she’d been sleeping on a pile of pea sized rocks all night.

If that hadn’t been bad enough he’d also been using her favourite vibrator to get the skank of a so-called friend off. Eww, who does that? Who uses someone else’s sex toys without asking? Sure, it’s not like her skank of a so-called friend hadn’t had a go with the toy before but that time was totally different. That time they’d both been really drunk and had crashed on the bed to watch the second season of The L-Word on DVD. A few episodes in things had got a little heated, hot, horny, very wet, and some mutual experimentation took place but the point is it was her fucking toy and she’d decide who, when and where it did its fucking vibrating!

Actually this total disregard for other people really shouldn’t have surprised her as bastard of a boyfriend was generally crap in bed and utterly terrible at giving head. You’d probably see more enthusiastic tongue action from a lactose intolerant vegan at an All-Natural ice-cream eating competition. Most of the time she had to take care of herself with the help of that damn vibrator. A perfectly good vibrator, a well-loved vibrator, now useless and sullied with icky grool from that back-stabbing skank of a so-called friend.

I know what you’re thinking. A bastard of a boyfriend in bed with a skank of a so-called friend. is so cliché? Yes, we know it isn’t ground breaking but it happened, so get the fuck over it!

Cliché would also mean she’d burst into tears and ran from the room. This did not happen. OK that did happen. But when the tears eventually came, it was later and after she’d kicked those two cheating fucks out of her bed and out of her home. Oh and when I say kicked I do mean that literally as our Princess Michelle was well versed in the fighting forms of Krav Maga. That along with having just the teeny-tiniest bit of a temper meant when she opened a can of “Whoopass” it wasn’t the single-serve type. Oh no, this was family-size bulk-buy can and so there was plenty to go around. You do remember what I said about what happened on her eighteenth Birthday? She didn’t get that police horse “just” by being naked and flashing her birthday sash.

By the way, if you’re interested in the Krav Maga then it’s taught on Thursday evenings in the dance studio above the lesbian bookshop on the high street. The one next to Flower Shop run by those three Romanian sisters. I have no idea what they’re saying but if you use a lot of hand gestures they pretty much get your order right. Also I was quite surprised to see how many books there were by, as well as on the subject of lesbians. But what do I know.

By the next day Princess Michelle had got herself pretty much together so when the bastard of a boyfriend came back round to “Talk it over” she could give him his stuff with a certain degree of emotional detachment. That is, she emotionally detached herself of all his clothes, guitar and PS3 and all via the bedroom window of their once happy third-story home. Oh and if anyone asks, it was totally by accident that she clocked him in the head with that now infamous skank-sullied vibrator.

But as days and weeks went by it became clear that the home she’d shared with bastard of a boyfriend had far too many memories. She needed space to clear her mind and she wasn’t going to find it here. She didn’t want to go home to her parents who would give her the “I told you so” routine. They’d never liked him much and that had turned to active dislike when last Christmas Day, while pulling into their driveway, he’d run over her mother’s cat. This animosity towards him was further compounded by him running over her dad’s “Best in show” dog as they made the frantic journey to get the cat to the Vet. Luckily both animals survived but Mr Wiggles never went to Crufts again and you don’t want to know what a Vet charges for a call-out on Christmas Day.

Princess Michelle needed a quiet place to think. She needed a loving and non-judgemental environment where she could soothe her wounded pride and start to rebuild her life. For the first time in a while she smiled as there was only one such place. She thought of her dear Aunt Francesca who was always offering an open invitation to come visit. It was time for a journey, a time for healing, a time for a new start and time to get a new mother-fucking vibrator.

To be continued…

Fantasy #004: Head in the clouds.

Fantasy #004: Head in the clouds

It’s been a long flight. Heathrow to Auckland via Los Angeles is never an easy trip. Almost 24hr in the air with only a few hours stop-over can wear anyone out. But it won’t be long now. A few more hours and we’ll be touching down and then I can get you alone in the hotel and give you a proper Kiwi welcome.

With all the lights out it’s dark except for the odd pool of light towards the front of the cabin where a few people are still up and reading. Everyone else seems to be taking advantage of the darkness and trying to get in some sleep. You’re sitting by the window but the blackness out beyond the wing holds no interest so you lean against me with your head resting on my shoulder. You’re in that special world somewhere between waking and sleeping. You’re snuggled beneath the blanket with one hand resting on my thigh and your soft breath feels warm and comforting on my neck. I turn my head to lose myself in the soft cloud of your loose hair. Almost a day in this plane but the familiar scent of your shampoo wafts up and brings back a flood of thoughts and memories that puts a smile on my face.

I’ll admit I started it because I was bored and couldn’t face watching another movie but also because I just wanted to touch you. I don’t think you really know the affect you have on me. A look, a smile, your scent and I’m either ready to melt into your arms or be rock hard and ready to tear your clothes off. So I thought, just a bit of harmless fun to pass the time would be great. Although you could also call it a lecherous grope depending on your view.

I slide my hand under the blanket and start to rub gently up and down your thigh. At first it’s on top of the loose skirt you wore for the flight but soon my actions cause the loose covering to ride up so eventually I’m sliding my hand over your warm naked skin. You feel so soft and smooth and the flesh beneath my fingers radiates a heat that spreads to smoulder between my own thighs.

My hand reaches the junction between your thighs and cups your pussy through your panties. So warm and is that a little dampness in the heat? I can’t remember exactly which pair you’re wearing today but by the feel they’re the lacy kind and I use your fashion choice against you. My fingers rub up and down your slit pushing the slightly abrasive material between your wet silky lips to heighten the stimulation. You push your hips forward to meet my pressing fingers with your own wanting need. Your movements become more urgent when I use my thumb to slowly rub around your clit. Close enough to excite but just far enough away so that your thrusts against my hand becomes a little frantic.

I like the effect my fingers are having as you turn your head to capture my mouth with your own and I help muffle your moans with my lips. You twist your body to get as close to me as possible. If it wasn’t for the seating and all our fellow passengers I think you’d be in my lap by now. But the twisting of your body against me has allowed my hand to move more freely between your thighs and as they open invitingly for me and I take full advantage.

I pull your panties aside and slip my fingers into you. I feel your body react to the intense sensation and your thighs seek to close themselves in response. My other hand grips your thigh tightly to keep you open and available as my fingers slip in deeper. So warm, so tight and so very slippery. The intensity of our kiss becomes deeper and more passionate. I tease you by matching the actions of my fingers with my tongue and stroke your most sensitive flesh. But I don’t ignore your throbbing clit and pull my wet fingers from your body to stroke and pleasure it before once again plunging them back inside.

But you now want to play a part in this game and reach under my blanket and frantically unzip me and pull my cock from my fly. I’m a lucky man as you’re too far gone for any teasing and your hands actions mirror the urgency of your hips. Up and down they move gripping and stroking with your palm gently gliding over the head. I add my own thrusting hips as I desperately seek more from your soft and delicate but knowingly erotic touch.

We know each other’s bodies so well that the most simple of touches draws forth the most intense of sensations. Our mouths aren’t enough and we bury our faces into each other’s neck in a desperate attempt to keep our cries of passion just between us. There with lips and tongues we feast on any available flesh just as we did before in each other’s mouths.

You cum…

Your whole body tenses around mine. Pussy convulses around my fingers, thighs squeeze my hand, an arm grips tight to my shoulder and your mouth presses hard up against my ear. From the depths of your core comes a moan of the most anguished pleasure which send shivers coursing through my body. That combined with your other squeezing hand around my cock signals my own release and I thrust wildly within your loving grip and into the blanket covering my lap.

In the quiet darkness we just sit holding each other until the tremors fade and the realisation of where we are starts to return.

I hear a slight clearing of the throat and turn to see one of the flight attendants standing there with a tray of warm damp towels.

“Here you go. I thought you might need these,” she says offering one to each of us.

I look at you and share a naughty smile then we look at her trying to act contrite even if we feel far from it.

“Don’t worry. You were very discrete but I’ve been doing this run for a few years now and can spot the signs. We’ll be landing soon. So now you’re all done I can now go turn on the cabin lights.” She gives us a big grin. “Thanks for flying with…”

We smile and thank her. After she has gone we discretely clean ourselves up beneath the blankets but hopefully more discretely than our previous activities. Playtime is over and we must now return to the real world of getting ourselves organised for arrival. But as things are packed away and tidied up there are still moments to catch your eye and smile and relive the fun we’ve had. Time enough to cup your soft cheek with my palm and lean in for a lingering kiss. I see your smile, I see your beauty and I see the sparkle in your eye announcing the fun on this trip has only just begun.

A little gangbang

I was browsing through Tumblr and just admiring the images of shoes, cats and erotic but stylish photos when I came across this one which can only be described as pornographic. I could do a whole post about my thoughts on women and pornography but this isn’t the time. This is about the fantasy scenario that came from the image. If you’ve read any of my other stuff then you’ll know I’m romantic as fuck. I like long walks on the beach, holding hands and those cute little teddy bears with “I <3 U” stitched into the chest. But sometimes I just want to fuck. I’m talking sloppy blow jobs, scratch marks down your back and the primal desire to bend some chick over and pound her roughly while she’s begging for more.

Fantasy #003: A little gangbang

I slide between your thighs and into the wetness of your cunt. Your legs wrap around my waist to welcome me into that tight hot hole of yours that at the moment isn’t feeling that tight. I shouldn’t be surprised and I’m certainly not complaining. I’d watched happily as man after man took you, used you and filled you with their cum. So you’re not as tight as you usually are but as I slide in and out of you I have to admit you’re still a great cunt. The sensations and sounds of fucking into such a sloppy hole are certainly a turn-on and the way you wrap your arms around my neck to draw me in for the most passionate of kisses says you are enjoying it just as much as me.

I could stay like this forever. Above you, in you, arms around you with my tongue playing with yours whilst my cock soaks in the depths of your cunt. But I look up and see the man with the camera and remember we aren’t here just for our pleasure but for all those paying customers who’ve handed over good money and expect a show. So let’s give them one.

I motion for Jo, who up till now has been entertaining the other men, to come on over and join us. She straightens up from her position of being bent over so that both her mouth and cunt can service the waiting cocks surrounding her. She gives a big smile for the camera as she wipes the back of her hand slowly across her cheek to clear away some cum that’s missed its target. She pauses, in her typically dramatic Jo way, and then keeping eye contact with the camera licks it all up. She’s like the cat who’s got her cream and swallows it down with a smacking of lips and the happy exclamation of “Yummy.”

I watch, stroking my cock still wet and sticky from your cunt, as Jo kneels over your face and offers her well fucked holes to your lips and tongue. Your arms reach up to draw her down till she’s settled comfortably over your face. She then leans forward to bury her mouth between your eagerly spread thighs. I turn to look at the TV to get a better view of what the camera is seeing and momentarily stand transfixed as we witness the collective cum, of the countless men who have fucked, her ooze from her cunt and slide into your open and anticipating mouth. When the initial flow has ceased you turn to the camera and show the white frothy load being churned by your delicate pink tongue before swallowing it down. You then press your lips to her slimy cunt above you with your tongue digging deep into her hole in search of more cum to taste. You grasp at her arse cheeks to pull her firmly on to your tongue. This exposes her arsehole which shows all the obvious signs of being well fucked and causes cum to leak from it. You wait with an expectant tongue out ready to scoop it up as it slides down through her cunt lips.

But Jo has also been busy while you’ve been sucking the cum out of her fuck holes. Her blonde head has been buried between your spread thighs. Her mouth feverishly attacking your clit in the rough way you like. Sucking hard, slurping on it like it were a strawberry milkshake. Hard flicks of her tongue and not so gentle bites have you thrusting your hips up demanding more. All while doing this her busy fingers pry apart your swollen pussy lips and thrust deep into your cunt. She started with two but now uses three to relentlessly shove hard up your cunt. She holds them flat to stretch you out as she finger-fucks you. This also allows her to scoop out the combined cum of you and all the men that have had you. She then greedily slurps it into her mouth before then continuing to ram those long slim fingers back up you and once again refasten her mouth to your clit.

We stand around and watch. All the men who have had you can’t wait to have you again. Hands on our cocks which are so hard from what we are witnessing before us. The cameras also watches and pans over your bodies seeking close-ups of hungry mouths and pink and glistening holes. It’s such a view to watch “our” cunts eating cunt, sluts eating sloppy fuck holes and the knowledge that soon we will all be once again fucking these two cock hungry whores and we won’t stop till they have taken all the cum we can give them.

We watch till we can take no more of the show. Although to you sluts and your constant moaning and whimpering this is more than just a show and you love eating and having your cunts eaten. But this isn’t just about you and while your fans are happy to see girl on girl action they have paid for a gangbang so it’s time for you two to take some cock… well actually a great deal of cock.

I sit in a chair and hold out my hand to you. You take it and I pull you on to my lap. We kiss and hands roam over sweat flushed skin groping and feeling all we can while our tongue’s tease and tangle in each other’s mouths. You then stand up and face away from me. I grasp my cock and hold it as you slowly lower yourself upon it. The camera zooms in on your face as the head of my cock butts against your arsehole. It captures your moans and the widening of your eyes as you lower yourself on to my thickness until the complete length of my cock is stretching you out and balls-deep up your arse. I wrap my arms around your stomach to hold you against me and give a couple of thrusts of my hips to further explore your tightest of holes. You in return push back on to my cock to show your appreciation for having your arse so full.

Sitting on my lap with your legs spread is a beautiful sight for the cameras. But when I spread my own knees it pushes yours further apart and gives everyone the best possible view of your wet cunt and your cock filled arse. I reach down to play with your clit and it doesn’t take much to get you going. Your body is super-sensitive to touch after all the cock and cum you’ve had, the men watching here and on-line and let’s not forget the lovely Jo and her magic tongue.

Speaking of Jo, here she comes now crawling on her hands and knees between the legs of all those naked men. She crawls past countless hard cocks but her eyes are only for you as she intently focuses on your cunt. She reaches you and stops with her lips mere inches from your pussy ones. Between your thighs the smell of cum and sex must be overpowering to her but the desire in her eyes and by the licking of her lips says she can’t wait for another taste of you. But I make her wait as I hold you locked to me with one strong arm as I use the other hand to play with your clit and slip my long thick fingers deep into your wetness. The combination of my cock in your arse and fingers up your cunt sends you over the edge and I can feel the waves of orgasm take your body as your arse squeezes my cock rhythmically as your muscles spasm.

Once reason returns the first thing you notice is Jo sucking and licking your juices off my fingers. There’s a hunger in this slut and it seems the only thing that can quench it is drinking from the well of your cunt and I’m not going to disappoint her. I reach out and take a handful of her hair and pull her face to what she wants most. Your head tilts back and a moan escapes your lips as hers go to work on pleasuring your body.

You turn your head and I capture your mouth with my own. My hands slide over your breasts and I give them the treatment they deserve. I move from soft strokes to hard squeezes depending on your body’s responses. If you want more I give it to you and then some. I give your nipples the same treatment and tug, flick and twist depending on whether your body wants to be teasingly pleasured or be pleasurably tortured.

You feel a change in Jo’s movements. You look down to see a man fucking her from behind. Her tongue and lips still fastened to your cunt but there’s an added sensation of her faced being rhythmically thrust into your groin. The first guy lasts for only a few minutes but he’s quickly replaced by a new and eager one. By the size of the eager crowd behind her it looks like Jo is going to be on her hands and knees getting her fuck holes used for quite a while yet. She tries to maintain her concentration but we all know Jo loves cock and is soon panting, moaning and pushing back at the thickness hammering into her. So you take matters into your own hands and reach for her head. Forcing her face into your cunt you start using her nose, lips and tongue to get you off. Jo is no longer fucking you with her face. It’s now you who is fucking her with your cunt. There she stays on hands and knees getting fucked from both ends of her body. You holding her up by her head while whatever guy is fucking her arse or cunt holds on to her hips. This is all that supports her limp and used body as she cycles through orgasm after orgasm as she revels in being the group’s fuck-toy and a cum-dump.

But while she’s having fun the rest of the men are growing anxious for a turn with this slut and so she’s pulled from your grasp and disappears under a swarm of male bodies. They bend and position her body so all three of her fuck holes can be used at once. You might not be able to see her now but you can certainly hear her. You can hear the sound of her sloppy cunt being filled, her cries to be arse-fucked harder and the unintelligible gagging noises she makes as thick cocks are forced down her throat and it only turns you on all the more.

But her three slutty holes aren’t enough and the men circle you now. You lean to the side and reach for the first cock you can grasp. You don’t look who it belongs to as that’s unimportant and all that matters is to get that cock into your mouth. You are so busy working it down your throat that you don’t even notice the guy trying to slide his cock up your cunt till he has the head lodged between your pussy lips. But you don’t miss a moment in your cock-sucking and only acknowledge being totally filled with three cocks by reaching out with both hands to grab two more cocks to wank and get hard for when it’s their turn.

I just sit there and enjoy the sensation of your arse moving up and down my cock. It’s not a conscious effort upon your part as you are just taking pleasure from being used. It’s the guy in your cunt who’s is giving you a rough fucking and it’s him that has you working up and down my cock. I watch as the guy in your mouth reaches for your head to start fucking your throat. Grabbing handfuls of hair he uses it like a leash to control you and I know it won’t be long till he clutches your face hard to his groin and pumps his cum into your stomach. I look round at the room and know he’ll only be the first of many and it’s going to be a long night.

So I just take the pleasure of your arse fucking my cock. Just as I take pleasure from watching your other holes being fucked. The camera captures all the debauchery but you’ve forgotten all about it as your eyes close and you give in to the ecstasy of being fucked, totally used and being a cum loving cam-whore.


Continue reading

Rough Love

I was reading the comments from a post on AAG blog and came across this one…

I’d like a hate-fuck with someone I love. Is that possible? :)

It struck a chord with me so I made a note of it and eventually it lead me to this.

Rough Love

“Wait till I get my hands on you, you little whore.”

His words cut through the silence of the room and made her step back as if the sheer force of his words had a physical presence to affect her.

He’d been stalking her around the old house for what seemed like an age. Hunting her like some animal. A cat and mouse game where she was definitely the prey.

He’d finally trapped her in the dining room and while she had the big table between them to keep her safe he was blocking the door and her only possible means of escape. She watched him intently from her side trying to figure what his next move might be. Every so often he would shout an insult, a taunt, a threat and she would either respond with chilly silence or a more violent retort of “Go fuck yourself you fucking perv,” to try and match him.

He would occasionally try to creep around the table to get to her and she would counter this by mirroring his movements to keep an even distance between them. But he’d only go so far so as not let her slip past him and out the door. He’d stop, give her an evil smile, and start slowly edging back the other way to begin this little dance all over again.

The room was quiet except for their heavy breathing brought on by the frantic movement of both predator and prey. A sheen of perspiration covered her skin giving ample evidence of her exertion to stay clear of his clutches. He’d come close once already. Luckily she’d escaped that time with just a torn blouse and popped buttons scattered across the floor. But the blouse was in shreds and exposed her breasts and hard pink nipples, flushed with adrenalin, to his leering gaze. She tried to project an air of defiance across the barrier that separated her from her attacker but the effort was marred by the constant need to grasp at the tattered shreds of her clothing to keep herself decently covered. She could see it in his eyes that this all amused and excited him but wasn’t sure if it was glimpses of her flesh or her desperate efforts to cover herself.

“I am going to get you bitch. You can’t escape me forever.”

“Fuck you!” she retorted. But wondered how long she could stay away from him. She knew what would happen if he caught her.

She’d laughed at him when he’d slipped and fallen to the hard wooden floor. His shout of triumph and the sound of tearing cloth were replaced by a loud thump and her mocking of his clumsiness as she scampered to relative safety. Just out of reach she’d continued to mock and ridicule him in an attempt to keep him off balance and from planning anything. But for his part he’d remained mostly quiet except for the odd comment about her “Nice tits!” which had her constantly and self consciously, adjusting her torn clothing.

It was this “clothing malfunction” that ultimately proved to be her undoing, for this round of the game. Her attempts to constantly keep covering her exposed breasts and remain the proper and decent “good girl” meant her concentration was divided. She knew she should keep her eyes firmly on the danger in front of her but the belief that she could do both allowed her to drop her gaze to evaluate the ruins of her blouse for just a moment too long.

When she looked up it was too late and he was already upon her. He was taller and heavier and his weight slammed her against the wall. For an instant she was stunned as the breath was knocked from her body. But then she fought back. Her arms came up and she tried to push him off, push him away. She really did try to fight but even as she struggled desperately for her freedom, in her heart she knew it was pointless and what was to happen next was already a foregone conclusion.

Eventually her energy to resist faded till she hung limply from his more powerful grip. When he felt the last of her resistance give he relaxed his grip slightly so to lean forward and whisper in her ear, his hot moist breath taunting her soft skin.

“Got you now you fucking little slut. I’m going to enjoy this, and if you’re half the whore I think you are, so will you.”

He spoke the words with such power and promise that her body shivered and she could feel the heat between her thighs instantly blossom and turn from what so far had been a mere anticipatory trickle into an almost flood of cum leaking from her cunt.

He ran his tongue across her exposed shoulder and up her neck tasting her skin and sweat. Then taking his time he marked her soft pale flesh with teeth to show both his dominance over her completely and announcing his ownership of her body to anyone who saw them. She tried to remain silent but the nips drew soft sighs and yelps that showed her pleasure at his touch.

He pulled her away from the wall and easily lifted her. His arms round her, strong and unyielding, bound them together so each could feel the others heartbeat and in silence he carried her down the long hallway towards the bedroom. Her much more delicate frame wrapped around him, long legs wound around his waist while her arms held tightly to his broad shoulders. Her head lay gently on his shoulder so she could whisper pleadingly in his ear, over and over again, “Please don’t. I’m a good girl, I’m a good girl.”

“As long as you’re a good cunt, I don’t give a fuck,” he said, throwing her down on to the bed.

She lay there looking up at him as he stripped naked. Pleading, “Please don’t,” over and over again as she slowly pulled up the loose flowing skirt, exposing more and more of her thigh till it bunched at her waist and revealed a sparse bed of curls crowning a glistening pink slit oozing with need.

“Please don’t hurt me, I’m a good girl. Please don’t fuck my cunt… and mouth… and especially my arse. Please don’t use me like a slut and a whore. Please don’t fill me with your cum and leave my fuck hole a sloppy mess.”

He climbed on to the bed and slowly crawled up between her widely spread thighs and roughly shoved two fingers into the wetness of her cunt. Something he could have done with his eyes closed and by merely following his nose. She was hot, ripe and ready. The immediate reaction to her body’s invasion was one of pleasure and self evident by her body’s shudder and her very audible groan. The orgasm was small but danced across her body like electricity and a promise of so much more to come.

He continued to thrust deep into her adding more fingers and she’d meet his finger fucking with equally rough thrusts of her hips. He showed his appreciation to her response by pulling those slime covered fingers from her sucking pink folds and wiping the thick cream of her cum across her face. He’d then plunge them into her mouth, making her suck his fingers clean and allowing her to revel in her own taste.

He moved up over her, his bulk hovering over her so his body filled her entire vision. Leaning in close so his breath was almost kissing her lips. “You’ve got a good cunt there and just the kind I like. Broke in some, but still plenty tight,” Reaching out he grabbed a fistful of hair and dragged her across the bed to where he wanted it. Then giving her a savage kiss that was almost bruising in its intensity he pushed her down, guiding her mouth to his hard cock. “Now show me how good a cocksucker you are.”

“Please don’t make me,” she said, running her tongue up and down the length, sucking on the head and dipping down to suck and delicately lap at his balls. “Only bad girls stick a dirty cock in their mouth.” She said, spitting on the head and then using tongue and lips to spread the wetness all around till he was glistening from cock tip to arsehole. His hands may have gripped her hair and had the control of her body but the skill, energy and enthusiasm she showed for sucking cock was all hers.

“Ok slut, that’s enough,” he said, after relishing in her mouth’s abilities for what seemed like forever. Releasing his grip from her head and pushing her down onto the bed. “On your back slut. Spread those legs. I want to try another of your fuck holes.” Continue reading

First time doing the female perspective

I based this poem on a story I came across written from the female perspective. I tried to keep to the story and use the same language and imagery as she used. It wasn’t easy being bound by someone else’s writing but it was an interesting exercise. I can also say while I’ve never tied a man to a bed and pleasured him with my mouth, and nether regions, I now know I’d be pretty damn good at it… If I was a woman.


In her voice

Know what gets me going?
What wickedness I do treasure?
Total submission to my will
and to use you for my pleasure.

I think I’ll strip and tie you –
naked to bed by wrist and leg.
To feast my eyes upon you
and then tease you till you beg.

My tongue and lips around you
licking, swirling all I want.
Pussy inches from your lips
and the wetness that I flaunt.

I rub my clit with fingers slick
then push them deep inside.
Lapping juices with my tongue
as on your chest I sit astride.

I spread myself before your eyes
pink wetness in your face.
Smell my desire. I see yours
and the yearning to have a taste.

Slide my body down yours
to rub my cunt upon hard cock.
Tease you at the entrance of –
my hot hole you want to fuck.

But not yet ready to let you in
for my juices I want to taste.
Your cock covered with my flow
and not a drop I wish to waste.

I take your cock into my mouth
and go deep down to the base.
Tasting cum both mine and yours
as I fuck you with my face.

I want you now, cock in my cunt.
I cannot wait any longer.
Spreading legs on fuck-me heels,
for a cock to feed my hunger.

I want you to watch your cock,
as I take it all deep inside.
Then back up again to just the head,
with slippery glistening slide.

Slowly I continue, tease myself,
one hand on throbbing clit.
Other squeezing nipples hard
on flushed and pushed out tits.

Head thrown back, back arching,
on your body I slowly ride.
Hips rotating, pushing down hard,
rhythm building on cock I glide.

Your hips move with an urgency,
so before you get carried away.
I pull off, bring cunt to lips as –
punishment that you so gladly pay.

I want you to taste me now,
lick me, lap with hunger at my juices.
Thighs tight on cheeks, clit rubbing nose
and so perfect for my uses.

Oh God…Yes…Yes. Grinding down,
I’m fucking your tongue against you …
I cum hard over your lips and cheeks
with my thick and sticky cunt-dew.

Mmmmh, I have to lick you clean,
sucking on your lips as I do so.
But there’s still a hunger deep in me
a hunger for your cock you’ll soon know.

Your cock slides in, no Ms Nice, now.
I want to ride my stallion.
Bounce up and down, faster, harder,
I ride you hard like a hellion.

I lean away, reach for your balls.
Finger extends to your arse.
“Cum with me baby, shoot deep in me.
Yes! Yes, you can cum at last!”

As our moans, screams mix together
I know you’ll do anything for me.
From being tied up for my pleasure
to making me a cup of tea.*

* Sorry about the last line. You had to be in on the joke for it to make sense. :)

The wonderful week that is.

Because today is Wednesday there’s a good chance tomorrow will be Thursday unless I missed an update on Twitter. But more than just being an ordinary Thursday it will be Half-Naked Thursday (HNT). Where game and gracious grown-up girls gleefully gather to give glimpses of their grace in various gustful get-ups so we may greedily gaze upon their gleaming goddess-like glory. Oh gosh! I know dudes do it as well but I usually skip over them. Sorry guys but you just ain’t my thing.

But this got me thinking (Oh it hurts!) Maybe I don’t have to wait all week for the pleasure of HNT and there must be other “Day” themed blog-communities where I can go for my fill of NSFW content. So I did a little search, don’t worry I didn’t put myself out too much, and came up with these days-of-the-week based events I can get… excited over. Not all are NSFW but they are all worth a look.


Sinful Sunday

Sinful Sunday

Six Sentence Sunday


Excerpt Monday

Excerpt Monday Logo


Tempting Tuesdays

Tuesdays seem a little slow so I added some padding to the day. :)

Teaser Tuesdays

Tempt Me Tuesday


Wanton Wednesday

Wank Wednesday


Half-Nekkid Thursday

The Other HNT



Erotic Flash Fiction

Flash Fiction Friday!

Fuck Me Friday


I had a great deal of trouble finding anything for Saturday. Is everyone down the pub? I tried searching “Sordid”, “Sinful”, “Slutty”, “Seduction” and the obvious “Sexy” of course. But then I got bored and went off to make a coffee. When I got back, surprisingly, the computer hadn’t done a damn bit of work while I was away so I was forced to keep searching. But what I did find under “Sultry Saturday” was this wonderful link to a website that specialises in “Boudoir Photography” which lead to the Boudoir Photography Network and I’m very happy to end the week there.

So what’s your favourite day of the week?

The autumn spring-clean and why wasn’t I born a red-head?

I’m a bit of a hoarder.

No I will not do that to you and certainly not for a mere $20… Anyway I said, “Hoa-DER!”

This hoarding applies as much to my on-line life as it does the “real” one. You visit and join sites and after a while you have multiple accounts and personas spread across the digital world. I’ve made it a goal to cut these down and so far been pretty successful. One of the last to tidy up is my other blog.

It was intended to be separate from this one and contain all the stories of an adult nature that I intended to write. But unfortunately my lofty aspirations of being the next Kristina Lloyd have not come to fruition. I’m not sure why it didn’t happen. Could it be because I’m neither a woman nor a red-head? Actually yes, I think that is exactly the answer and the fact I found writing hard work had nothing to do with it.

Writing is hard! Who knew?

I’m pretty much done clearing out the blog and I’ll be re-posting the poems on here in dribs and drabs. All that’s left are the 3.5 stories I completely finished. Why only 3.5 you ask? The simple answer is I enjoy writing but I’m not a writer and I’m pretty certain that I don’t want to be. Maybe…? Who knows? Sometime in the future I may pick up the story writing bug again and finish some of those I started or planned out. A case of never say never and just wait and see.

So here are the stories:

UPDATE: They have now been moved over to this blog.

Love, sex and the snooze-button.

A tale of romance set between the alarm-clock going off and getting out of bed.

Tags: Erotic Stories, Erotica, Love, New Zealand, Romance, Sex, Sex Stories, Snooze, Writing

Because it’s Monday.

A story of a woman who enjoys Mondays mornings and some fun fetishes.

Tags: Anal Sex, Butt Plug, Erotic Stories, Fetish, Glass Sex Toy, Librarian, Love, M/F, Romance

Do you remember your first… Once upon a time?

A young man and an older woman have a chance encounter and spend some quality time together for some sexy fun and a little revenge.

Tags: Adult Fairy Tale, Erotic Stories, Older Woman Younger Man, Sex in A Toilet, Sex in Public, Virgin, Writing

…and here is the .5

Facebook Fantasy #001

Tags: Erotic Stories, Facebook, M/F/M, Sex Fantasy, Threesome

More a fantasy I wrote for a “Friend.” There have been others but nothing I’ll post to the public even if I am doing it anonymously.  A hook-up threesome between two men and a woman.

Image: Artistic Bodies

Facebook Fantasy #001

After much fun on Facebook messaging back and forth with a friend I felt inspired to knock out this fantasy for her. I thought about editing it into a story but decided to just post it as is with only basic proofing to make it fit for public reading. I’m hoping this is the first of many Facebook Fantasy’s.

Dear S,

I went to bed just after midnight, my time. But I woke sometime after 1am with that horny but sleepy feeling. I thought of you and a myriad of scenarios flashed through my mind about what I could do to, and for you. I then remembered that question I asked you: “What’s your most secret sexual fantasy?” While I can’t do that one for you, this fantasy came to mind and I thought I’d share it with you.

Your (sort of) Sexual Fantasy.

I’m still nervous. The double vodka in the hotel bar hasn’t really calmed me down. I think about ordering another but then I worry about what that will do to my performance during the event to come.

Then you walk into the bar and I forget my worries for a moment. You look great as you cross the room. The way you hold your head says confidence and assurance and the sway of your hips say sexy and you’re proud of it and proud to let other see it.

You slip on to the bar stool next to me and I must be the only man and woman in the room not looking at your legs as you cross them demurely causing the hem of the black dress to slide up and show the tops of your matching stockings. I’m not aware because you lean in to give a gentle kiss and then whisper in my ear

“He’s upstairs waiting for us.”

You pick up the glass in front of me and knock back the last swallow and although it only lasts moments the image of the glass against your painted red lips and the line of your delicate neck, as you swallow, will probably stay with me forever. Just another snap-shot moment of this rollercoaster love affair.

You take my hand and smile as you entwine your fingers in mine. You lead me from the bar and across the stylish hotel foyer to the elevator. It’s late so we are alone as we ride up. That this is an expensive hotel is evident by the polished brass fittings and the spotless mirrors that enclose us on all four sides.

She holds me close and leans in so her soft hair rests on my shoulder.

“Still nervous?” she asked.

I nod.

“Is it because you’re going to share me with another guy or that your cocks might touch and you might catch some gayness?”

That she says this with such a straight face and so serious breaks through and I laugh and most of the worry slips away.

I smile at her as she continues.

“Cool. Just remember that this is just sex. We’re going to fuck, have a good time, leave and then never see him again. I love you. I’ve always loved you, and unless George Clooney becomes available I will always love you.”

The elevator doors open and we walk down the corridor until we get to the right door. She knocks and we wait.

You might ask why I’m here at a hotel to share my beautiful wife with a complete stranger. Well the answer is simple, because she wants to. I’ve never been able to refuse her requests even when they are things that I might not initially want to do. She knows me sexually better than I know myself and will drag me from reluctance to the point where I’m having the time of my life. So while I’m nervous about another man fucking my wife I also trust her implicitly.

The door opens and I get a look at the man whose cock will soon be inside her. He’s actually quite ordinary. I don’t mean plain but he’s not a twelve-foot green Martian or some other strange image that my brain had subconsciously conjured just for the fun of freaking me out. He looks like any other good-looking guy that you would see any where and not assume he has threesomes with strangers in a hotel late at night.

He invites us in and offers us a drink. He’s friendly and making an effort to put us at ease. We talk for a while to lighten the mood but then it comes to the point of why we are here.

He stands up.

“I’ll go take a shower while you start and then join you. OK?”

We agree and he leaves and we are left alone staring at each other.

You break the silence, “OK let’s get undressed.”

We start unzipping and unbuttoning and this seems so bizarre. It’s like we are having a nice quiet evening at home and getting ready for bed after a couple of mugs of hot cocoa.

“Shall I leave the stockings on?”

I give her a look

“Just because I always take them off at home because I don’t want to ruin them during sex is no reason not to take them off now. It is a special occasion after all.”

Before I can say anything she continues.

“If they do get ripped how about you take me out tomorrow and I’ll let you buy me some new ones.”

The laughter in her voice and being reminded that there will be a tomorrow after this monumental night makes me smile and I nod my agreement.

So we slip between the crisp clean hotel sheets naked except for her stockings.

For all the strangeness of what we are about to do the familiar soon shows its head as we come together. The feel of her tongue in my mouth and the taste of her lipstick all are so recognizable to me but always feel so fresh and exciting like it’s the first. The smell of her skin as I nuzzled at her breasts and nipples is all that it takes to get me hard or it could simply be her hand stroking up and down the shaft. Then the excruciating pleasure as she drags her hair down my belly and her delicate fingers stroking my balls announces the wetness and heat of her mouth as she displays her cock sucking prowess.

I pull her up to face me before she can do too much damage to my stamina. I take her face between my hands and lick her chin and lap away the un-ladylike drool from an overzealous blow-job.

I flip her onto her back intending to stick face in her pussy, for hopefully hours, but she pulls at me.

“No. I’m wet enough and all I want right now is your cock in me.”

I slip between parted and willing thighs and let her guide me in. she strokes it between her lips to tease us both before lodging the head at her pussy’s entrance. The moment she releases me I slide into her. The sensation of her body overwhelms me and I thrust hard and deep and her body accepts me with the widening of her eyes and a primal grunt that says this woman wants to be fucked.

“Well you’ve certainly started without me.”

We looked up and there’s a man in just a bath towel standing next to the bed.

She and I have this perfect moment of understanding as our lust addled thoughts run from, “Who is this guy?” to “Oh it’s his room and he’s here to fuck as well.”

The shock of a stranger in our sex life vanishes and we both laugh but it fades quickly as he drops his towel to reveal a semi-hard cock.

I look at you but you are looking at him and practically licking your lips. He climbs on to the bed and I adjust my position so you can lean into him. I watch as you take another man’s cock into your mouth. Watch as you stroke his shaft while licking and sucking at the head just like you did mine not long ago.

This was the point I feared. Would I be angry, hurt, disgusted to see you do willingly to another man what you also did to me? The fact I was still rock hard and had more of a desire to keep fucking you instead of pulling him away from you seemed to answer that question.

That’s how the evening progressed. With you between us servicing one cock with your mouth and hands while the other serviced your pussy and clit. We both took turns pleasuring your breasts and he was a quick learner, due to your pleasured cries, that you preferred to have your nipples tugged hard.

You didn’t have any trouble coming. Orgasm followed orgasm and we even had to stop so you could get a drink to parch a mouth dry from constantly moaning and giving professional head.

Then it was time for the final act. If this night was some sort of sexual dessert then this was to be the cherry on top.

He laid on his back plumping some pillows to stick behind his head as you grabbed a tube of lube. Greasing up your hands you applied it liberally till he was glistening and hard. Then straddling him you took him easily into your pussy.

Stroking yourself up and down on him you bid me closer to give my cock the same lube job after a quick smile and a kiss to the head.

It was up to me now. I slipped up behind you and between his spread legs. You stopped all movement and bent forward to lie quietly upon his chest. Grabbing my cock I slid closer and pressed my head to entrance to your pussy. The fact that there was already a cock in it made it difficult but all the added lube and the fucking it had taken tonight allowed me to slide slowly but surely till my belly was pressed against the cheeks of your arse and I could lean over to lay a kiss on the back of your sweat damp neck.

We lay there for a moment and I listened to your heavy breathing and luxuriated in how incredibly tight you were and how turned on I was.

“Are you ok?”

“I’m fine. But fuck I feel fucking stuffed.”

All three of us laughed.

“OK start slowly and I’ll let you know when I can take more.”

So I slowly slid my cock from you and then slid it just as slowly back in. Not bothered that I was fucking along another man’s cock. I just kept fucking her with more speed and depth as she kept begging for more until I was just ramming it into her and she seemed to be constantly coming and loudly announcing it with grunts and squeals.

Suddenly I heard his groan from beneath and her pussy turned from tight and wet into a slippery hot swamp. The thought of another man coming in her pushed me over the edge and I gave one last thrust before burying myself to the hilt before adding my own offering of cum to her body.

We lay there as we got out breaths back. Her exhausted on his chest and me slumped over her back. Not wanting to crush her I pulled away and the general silence of the room was the shattered as a softening slippery cock was pulled from a well fucked and cum filled pussy. The sound was obscenely erotic and I laughed as it was this and not having a threesome with a stranger that caused her to blush and cover her face in embarrassment.

Our friend being the gentleman leaned over and picked up his discarded towel and offered it to her to take care of the combined mess that was starting to leak from her body.

I watched as towel pressed between her highs she scuttled into the bathroom then lay back letting all that happened tonight go through my head.

“So was it what you thought it would be,” he asked.

“Oh so much better,” I smiled.

“Well you’ve got my email address so if you want me to join you again just let me know.”

“Thanks, we will.”

Before I can say anything else she leans around the bathroom door grinning.

“Hey, this shower is big enough for three.”


Do you remember your first…Once upon a time?

I’d describe it as the Goldilocks of cafés.

It wasn’t too big or commercial where crowds packed it with so much noise and bustle you couldn’t hear the espresso machine hissing and gurgling as the barista performed their coffee-magic. But neither was it too small and cramped with substandard coffee and a patisserie selection that wasn’t fresh, extensive and displayed to delight the eye.

It was just right.

I was there because my boss had sent me home early. Friday afternoon tends to run a little slow and this one had been quieter than usual. Unfortunately I’d missed my connecting bus so with time to waste I decided to treat myself to a cappuccino and gingerbread. Or if they had any left, a double-chocolate muffin.

I had that: what could be better than this, Friday feeling. I was starting the weekend early, money in my pocket and it’s all good! The sun is shining; birds are singing happily…probably…somewhere. I say somewhere because being in the business district surrounded by offices doesn’t leave much room for trees to perch in.

When I walked in the café was quiet with only a few tables occupied. What you’d expect for a place like this once the lunch-time crowd had gone. The woman behind the counter, who I affectionately think of as Rapunzel because of her ever-present long braid, was already serving someone. So I occupied myself by gazing with serious intent at what sweet treats were still available so late in the day. My concentration was so fixed on the goodies before me that when a loud “Fuck!” rang out around the café, I’m embarrassed to say I jumped.


Looking over at the counter I saw a woman crouched and digging through a bag for something that was obviously doing an excellent job of hiding. It was a large sports-bag coloured bright pumpkin-orange and a total contradiction to the rest of her. She was well dressed, stylish, and if I were asked for one word to describe her it would be: sophisticated.

“I know it’s here,” she said, as much to the contents of her bag as to Rapunzel. “I had it at the gym because I got out my membership…” She stopped rummaging and looked up at the woman waiting patiently before her, “I’ve left the damn purse in the locker, haven’t I?

I suspect by the lack of response from Rapunzel and the woman not minding a lack of response that the question was of the rhetorical kind.

She started jamming items back into the bag with a few more muttered fuck’s but I clearly heard, “I really could have done with that coffee.”

“I’ll pay for it.”

Both women turned to look at me and I felt my cheeks start to burn as I realised it’s me who has spoken up.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” asked Ms Sports-bag. My cheeks flushed brighter as it occurs to me I have entered into the conversation and will now have to contribute to it.

So in I rush before my brain can catch up with my mouth. “If you’re only having a coffee and that’s all you want then I don’t mind paying. I’m always willing to help someone out who’s having a problem if I can. I work in customer services, you know, so I do it for a living. I just got paid yesterday and haven’t managed to spend it all yet…It’s a nice day out…today isn’t it…?”

I shut my mouth realising, far too late, that I’ve been rambling on and Rapunzel is trying not laugh and Ms Sports-bag has a look that’s somewhere between pity and utter disbelief. But now I’m in this far I feel a need to go on. So after a deep calming breath I give it another try.

“It would be a pleasure and no trouble at all to help you out by paying for your coffee.”

It’s the best I can do.

Rapunzel looks to Ms Sports-bag, who after giving the offer thoughtful consideration nods her head. “Thank you very much and I’d love it if you bought me a coffee,” and then she does the most amazing thing ever.

She smiles.

In my earlier flustered confusion I can’t say I paid much attention to the details of her face. But with her looking directly at me with a wide friendly smile I’m going to go out on a limb and say she is absolutely beautiful.

I’m not very good at describing women so you’ll have to bear with me. She was a few inches shorter than my own 5 10’. She had short blonde hair that looked like it cost a great deal to style. I know stuff like that because my mum works in a salon and I grew up getting my hair cut next to women having high-lights and extensions. She was dressed in a dark grey business suit, snowy-white silk blouse and dark stockings visible beneath a skirt that stopped conservatively at the knee.

Oh, and she had the most amazing hazel eyes.

As to how old she was, I wouldn’t dare to make a guess. She looked older than the girls at university and younger than my mum. While I know little of the world and the ways of women, I’m smart enough to know you don’t guess a woman’s age without taking your life in your hands.

So here was an attractive, mature and well dressed woman who was definitely beyond my sphere of personal interaction and I’m buying her a coffee.

Does this count as a date?

So after a calming breath I step up to the counter to pay for her latte and order my cappuccino. After that emotional rollercoaster ride I’ll skip the muffin and just stick to the coffee.

She smiles at me again and my blushes return.

“Thank you for this.”

“No problem, I don’t mind.”

“Well thanks any way.” She looks around and I follow her gaze to see everyone has cleared out since I walked in.

I hope it wasn’t something I said?

“Since you’re buying the coffee and we’re the only ones here would it be alright if we sat together? It’s just that I’d feel a little guilty to take your coffee and then sit on my own and ignore you.”

I’m mesmerised by her smile and the fact this attractive and classy woman, even if she does say fuck, is actually talking to and wants to have coffee with…me! Then I notice the silence and blush again as I realise she’s expecting an answer.

“Oh yeah…sure. I’d love to have a coffee with a beautiful woman like you.”

Her smile widens and I wonder if all this blood flow to my face is going to cause a stroke. I can’t believe I just said that. But she doesn’t laugh and politely ignores my obvious inability to have a normal conversation with a woman.

“Where would you like to sit?” She asked.

“Not bothered,”

I have no coolness at all.

“Well if you have no preference let’s sit up the back. The sun’s a little too bright for me down here by the windows.”

“Sorry about that,” Rapunzel says handing me my change, “the boss hasn’t got around to putting the awnings up yet. Standing here at this time of the day, it’s hotter than a witch’s oven.” She then turns to serve a new customer who’s just walked in.

So I follow Ms Sports-bag towards the rear of the café and the quiet area designed for lounging and the leisurely intake of caffeine. I can’t help but notice the sway of her hips and the nice shape of her arse as she precedes me.

Picking one of the overstuffed and brightly coloured chairs she did that feminine-thing and graciously lowered herself into the seat before demurely crossing her legs in one smooth and fluid motion. My chair must have been lower than hers because I seemed to fall into mine like a sack of potatoes.

Looking across at her I was suddenly aware of my situation and realise I have no idea what to say this grown-up woman before me. Luckily I’m saved for the next thirty seconds by Rapunzel arriving with our coffees. So in silence we take our first sips of what brought us here in the first place.

“I guess I should introduce myself. I’m Samantha Fairgod, and once more, thanks for this.”As I take her offered hand and I’m was acutely aware of the softness and warmth in her small but firm grip. So aware that I have to squirm slightly in my chair so it doesn’t become too obvious.

“Chase Mädchen. It’s no problem. It’s good to help others out when you can.”

“That’s very kind and charitable of you.” She takes another sip before placing her cup carefully down and then looks at me with those lovely warm eyes.

“So you think I’m beautiful?”

Luckily I’d already swallowed my mouthful of coffee or there’s a good chance I’d have ruined her suit by spitting foam all over it. Gripping my cup I look over the rim at her questioning expression. It’s a large cup but not large enough to hide behind forever. I know I have to say something so I desperately try to think of some cool and witty reply.

Ok, here goes.

“Nice coffee?”


She acknowledges this with a brief smile but then her expression returns to serious and expectant. “It is, but that’s not answering my question.”

Not really knowing what to say in a situation like this I go for the easiest option and tell her the truth, “You are very beautiful.”

She tilts her head slightly and smiles again but this one I’d definitely call amused.

“It’s been a long time since a man your age has paid me such a compliment.”  She then leans forward placing an elbow on her knee and rests her chin on her hand. Her face brightening as she asks.

“May I have another?”

She can obviously see the confusion on my face as I fumble for something to say. “It’s all right I’m the one asking so you can say whatever you like. I promise not to take offence and will graciously receive all praise in the spirit it’s given.” There’s laughter in her voice but like a cloud passing in front of the sun the laughter disappears from her face.

“The thing is…in a short time I’ll be signing my final divorce papers and ending a fifteen year marriage. I’m mostly fine with that…now.” Even I could hear the tinge of bitterness to her words. “But let’s just say that today is not my favourite day. The gym helped to work off some stress but I’m emotionally a little up and down and that’s why I’m sitting in a café, drinking coffee and asking a perfect stranger, who did me a kindness, if he will do me another.”

I hear the want in her voice and I can’t help but respond to her request. “You have a lovely smile that brightens your face.”


“You have the most beautiful hazel eyes.”

“And more…”

I am out of coherent ideas and I don’t want to say that she has a nice arse no matter what she says about not taking offense.

“Um… Your freckles are cute,” I say with the utter realisation that I am totally rubbish when it comes to talking to women. How do other men-?

“They go all the way down to my boobs. Here…want to see?” She leans forward and tugs on her top button to expose a little more flesh. Not nearly enough to call breast or even cleavage but her action catches me so off guard I jump, and once again go as red as a fire-engine. She drops back into her chair laughing so hard that everyone in the café turns to see what’s so funny.

It takes some time before she can eventually get herself back under control. “I’m so sorry.” Wiping tears from her eyes. “I really shouldn’t tease or make you feel so uncomfortable with my inappropriate questions. You’re nice enough to buy me coffee and here I am treating you poorly.”

“So you’re not going to flash me again?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Uh…” I can’t help myself and I start laughing. Looking across at her I suddenly feel more at ease in her company. Her laughing and joking has turned her from a woman I’m in total awe of, and intimidated by, into just a friendly person who you can drink coffee with and crack boob jokes to.

“I don’t think I’ll answer that question on the grounds that I’m a man. But are you sure you don’t want any more compliments?”

“Oh you can never give a woman too many compliments but I promise not to ask for any more,” She replies with a grin.

“Good because the only one I could think of is that you have a nice arse.”

“Oh such typical man. If it isn’t the boobs it’s the bum.”

She twists slightly in her chair and gives a cheek a playful slap.

“I do take care of it. You don’t get to be forty-three and keep a body like this without eating right and a lot of hard work at the gym”

“You are obviously doing a great job.”

“Shame my husband, almost ex-husband, didn’t appreciate it instead of the plastic assets of his whore of a P.A.”

And just like that the moment is gone and she withdraws into her thoughts. There is nothing I can do or say so I mumble the obligatory, “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, so am I.”

So we sit there in silence drinking our coffee. I want to say something but just don’t know what. When I finally think to ask what gym she goes to and look up from my cup I become aware I’m the subject of an intense and thoughtful gaze. I have no idea how long she’s been looking at me like that but as our eyes meet I see that whatever it is she’s been wondering about, a decision has been made.

“Can I ask you a few personal questions?”

“Sure.” Answering questions is a lot easier than trying to think up complements and certainly less taxing on my casual small-talk skills.

“Are you gay?”

“No…No. Do I come across as gay?”

She merely shakes her head and continues. “Are you in any kind of relationship right now?”

“Definitely not,” I’m wondering where the hell this is going. Is she going to ask me on a date? Oh God, I don’t have thing to wear.

“Ok, one final question.” Indicating for me to lean closer and cut the distance between us.

“Do you want to fuck me?”

“Ummmm, s-sorry. W-what did you say?”

“I said, would you like to fuck me?

I hear the words and I know what they mean but my brain can’t put them into any kind of rational thought. Women like this don’t ask guys like me this question…ever! Her tone is calm, ordinary, like for any other normal topic of conversation. She could be asking about the coffee or the weather or…other things that don’t involve the word fuck.

“The thing is…I would very much like to sit next to my husband at the solicitors being polite and cordial as we wind up a good part of our life together with another’s mans cum inside me.”

I’m just sitting there and must look like a deer caught in headlights, as she carries on.

“You fucking me will be my little fuck you to him. I was the good-wife who never looked at another man. Sure I had offers over the years. Some were subtle and others ones not so. I’m an architect and you know what they say about builders?” I nod dumbly. “Well it’s all true.” She laughs and rolls her eyes. “So I was the good girl and he had to go off and fuck his secretary. Isn’t that just so cliché?”

I’m still speechless.

“So I’ve been thinking since I kicked him out. What could I do to take some revenge? But to be honest I don’t really care enough now to be petty or spiteful and make some ugly public scene. I want to take the high road and see this thing through with a little dignity. I know this probably makes no sense to you but don’t worry, it does in my head. I want a little private vengeance on my husband and you get the chance to get lucky. You seem like a nice guy and have been very sweet to me on a day when I really needed it.” Her voice lowers to just above a whisper and this close I can feel her breath on my cheek and smell the scent of her perfume. She smells gorgeous. “So how about doing one more small favour by sticking your cock in me?”

I open my mouth unsuccessfully several times and when I do manage to say something the first thing that squeaks out is, “I’m a virgin!”

“Ok, that’s fine.” But her tone says she thinks I’m a little slow. I would be insulted but I’m far too embarrassed by my confession.

“Let me start again. I’ll ask a question and you give me a one-word reply. Ok?”

“Ok,” I nod.

“How old are you?”


“Oh my. That’ll make me almost a cradle-snatcher. Or am I a cougar? I hope not because I really dislike that C-word.” She grins, “Bet you can’t guess what my favourite C-word is?”

“Uh…Is it Christmas?”

“You really are a sweet boy. Ok, so you’re virgin. We all were at one time so don’t worry about that. Oh, you’re not saving it for marriage or your one true love are you?”

I shook my head.

“Good then. So it’s just a matter of you not yet having the opportunity?”

I nod.

“Well then, that’s what I’m offering you.”

Sex…here…now…me…her. So many thoughts are rushing through my brain I think it’s going to explode. Until I realise it’s only the espresso machine across the café warming some milk. The hissing stops and I say the only thing that makes sense.


She smiles. “Right then here’s the plan. You go through to the toilets and lock yourself in the disabled stall. I’ll be with you in a couple of minutes just to make sure this doesn’t look too obvious.”

I look down at my cup, “Should I finish my coffee first?”

She just stares.

“Yeah, you’re right,” So I clamber from my safe and comfy chair and try to walk as normal as I can towards the appropriately marked door at the back of the café. I feel as if all eyes are upon me although from last glance that’s less than half a dozen people.


Heart racing I walk down the corridor past the male and female signs until I reach the disabled/baby-changing one at the end. I enter and latch the door behind me. It’s unlike the other toilet stalls in that it’s a separate room with a proper door you can’t slide under and most importantly it’s very roomy. Large enough for a wheelchair, or to change a nappy, and certainly large enough for two people to have sex in.

Oh shit!

Full of excitement and apprehension but not sure what else to do I sit on the toilet lid. Oh shit! I’m sure it’s about ninety percent excitement and seventy-five percent apprehension.

Whether she’s in a hurry or time speeds up when you’re waiting for sex in a toilet, I don’t know, but soon enough I hear her voice on the other side of the door. My nervousness shows as my fingers fumble twice with the lock before getting it undone to let her in.

She slips past me and I lock us in. Dropping her bag she gives a conspiratorial smile that I don’t think has any place other than a bedroom or…a disabled toilet?

“I was worried there. I didn’t think you were going to let me in and I was going to have to huff and puff the door down. That’s no fun. I want to do the huffing and puffing on this side.”

She stands there in the centre of the tiled floor looking composed, self-assured and just magnificent.  All the while I remain seated on my porcelain throne wondering what the hell I do now. Luckily for me she has all the answers.

She kicks off her shoes and removes her jacket to hang on the back of the door. “Ok, let’s get rid of the formalities first. You can’t get me pregnant so don’t worry about that. You’re a virgin and I have not been with anyone since my husband. I had myself checked for STI”s, to make sure he hadn’t given me anything, so we don’t have to worry about that either.”

She comes over and wraps her arms around my neck and brushes her lips lightly against mine. Bent over like that also gives me a great view down her blouse and I can’t help but think, this so fucking awesome!

“You also don’t have to worry about your performance.” I hadn’t even thought about that. “I gather you’re a little nervous but don’t worry about it because I’m going to take care of everything.” She backs this statement up by sliding her hand down my chest until she reaches my groin and begins to fondle me through my jeans.

“Well it looks like you’re all ready to go. When was the last time you had a wank?”

“Um…” My hesitation speaking is probably just as much caused by embarrassment of the topic as it is by her hand groping my cock.

“Come on don’t be shy, where all friends here.” She proves this by taking my hand and slipping it beneath her skirt and for the first time in my life I feel the heat and moistness of a panty covered pussy.

“I’d just like to know so I have some idea how long you are going to last. If it was last week I doubt you’ll last five seconds and if it was last night…? Oh, fuck it!”

She reaches for my belt and within seconds my zip’s down and her hand is extracting my cock from underwear.

“Yes, I think this will do me nicely.”

I have seconds to contemplate the happy realisation that a woman is touching me down there for the first time, before all thoughts flee when she drops to her knees and her warm wet lips descend to take me into her mouth.

Not having anything to compare it with I can only say her technique seemed pleasantly aggressive. Her small soft hands squeeze and stroke up and down with a quick steady pace that’s in sync with her mouth. She takes it in deep. Sucking and trying to swallow me. Then pulling back to suck hard on the tip while expertly using her tongue to massage the head, before taking it deep again to repeat the erotic cycle. As this was a disabled toilet I took advantage of the available hand rails and held on for dear life. Partly to ground myself as the sensations she’s giving make me feel like I could float away or at least fall off the toilet seat. But I also gripped those bars to keep my hands occupied. Because watching her head bob up and down on my cock I had to fight the need to reach for that blonde head and fuck her mouth with a desperate urgency to force even more of this pleasure out of her and into me.

I don’t know how long this went on. But eventually she looks up and must see what she’s doing to me because she grabs one of my hands and slides it down the front of her blouse. I only felt the warm, soft weight of her breast for a few seconds before calling out, “I’m coming!

With my cry she thrusts her head back down and I feel the magic of her throat swallowing and swallowing and swallowing around my cock. I can’t help myself anymore. So while one hand touches cold steel the other grabs for her shoulder. It was like connecting some physical circuit and touching her through the warmth of her silk blouse flicked the switch to on! The body electricity flowed and so did my cum into a woman, this woman, for the first time.

Once…Twice…Three times my body convulses and I fire my cum down her throat. She stayed like that with her nose buried in my pubic hair and only once the initial explosions were over, and she had taken all I could give, did she release me from her throats embrace. But she only raised herself enough to take a quick breath before returning to suck on the head as if to make sure she got every last drop from me.

She kept sucking until I was soft and so able to take all of me into her mouth. Then it was a case of her tongue rolling and swirling me around the oh-so warm confines of her mouth like I was some favourite and tasty sweet. Never letting up she pulled down my jeans and underwear until they sat around my ankles. Then spreading my knees she stroked and played with me balls and that little piece of real-estate between my sack and arse-hole. A spot which I quickly found out was remarkably sensitive to touch.

It didn’t take long before I felt myself growing hard again in her mouth. Its return only seemed to spur her on and when I could no longer be contained in her mouth she went back to lavishing the head with her velvet tongue while her soft hands stroked up and down the hardening length.

Only when fully hard again did she lift her mouth from my cock, “Did you like that?” The biggest grin spread across her face.

I looked down at her and my thoughts flowed from mouth like my cum had from my cock

“That was fucking incredible! That was… You are amazing. I want to say…something. Thank You! But I’m not sure if that’s the acceptable thing to say and anyway a mere Thank You has nowhere near the feeling I want to convey right now. That was the most fantastic experience of my life. You are amazing!”

“You already said that but it’s nice to hear it again.”

Giving my cock head a quick final kiss she gets up and walks over for a water-bottle out of her bag and takes a couple of mouthfuls. “Blow jobs are thirsty work,” she says. Then ever so casually reaches under her skirt and pulls down her panties. Holding them by just the tips of her fingers she swings them back and forth, I suppose just to make sure I had her attention, before dropping them back into her bag.

“Ok then it’s time for the main event.” She slowly walks towards me emphasising the sway of her hips. “So hang on baby ‘cause here I come! I’ll leave my skirt on if you don’t mind?” I gave my usual mute nod, “As it makes having sex with a stranger in a toilet stall, just that we bit slutier.”

“Can I see your breasts?” I boldly but politely ask.

“I don’t see why not, but first things first.”

Standing in front of me she reaches for my cock which if possible got even harder at her renewed touch. She watches her hands, seemingly fascinated as they slide up and down the length,

“You’ve got to love teenage boys and their cock’s ability to revive so easily.” Then looking up at me, “It brings back happy memories of when I was a single girl.” Her expression looks…thoughtful. “Maybe being a divorced won’t be so bad.”

Standing straight she hikes her skirt with one hand while the other continues to stroke me. Shifting forward she positions herself to slide the head of my cock back and forth between the soft slippery lips of her vulva.

“Ready to have your cherry popped?”

I’m not sure if she’s expecting an answer but I nod because it’s the polite thing to do and the moist heat soaking my cock head has robbed me of any and all forms of speech.

“Ok then. You just lie there and this won’t hurt at all. I promise” She then slowly lowers herself and I’m consumed by her tight wet pussy.

“Mmmmm… That’s nice. I’ve really missed this.” Her eyes are closed and I’m sure she’s talking to herself more than me. But she opens them and meets mine. “So what do you think?” Slowly lifting herself up and then down so the entire length of my cock can enjoy her pussy. She lifts herself off me completely a few times so we can enjoy again and again the incredible sensation of penetration and her body engulfing all of me.

She seats herself fully impaled upon me and I’m totally aware of her. Her pubic hair nestled in mine. Her soft breasts pressed hard up against my chest. The silken feeling of her hair grazing my cheek as she leans in so soft lips and agile tongue can work their magic on and in my mouth.

“Oh, that’s right you wanted tits.” She pulls slightly away to reach for the buttons on her blouse. I watch as her delicate fingers, the tips painted a rich apple-red, open them one by one until she can pull it apart to show the lacy black bra beneath. Then with unconscious grace she slips from the blouse and unclasped her bra to reveal her breasts. I can’t take my eyes from her soft pale flesh or the dark hard nipples that thrust from them.

“Hello sweetie, I’m up here.”

I look up and smile, “You are beautiful.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls who suck you off, sits on your cock and then shows you their tits.”

What’s the correct response to that?

“Shit! You’re so… So…” My mind is lost for words.


“Yes, very”


“Uh huh,” I stammer.

“And what about…?”

Oh my mother fucking God! What was that?”

“That my pretty, was the benefit of doing Kegel exercises every day for twenty odd years.” She kisses me hard and her tongue does to my mouth what her pussy is doing to my cock

“Here’s a life lesson for you love. You can’t ever go wrong by complimenting the tightness of a woman’s cunt. Something like, Ooh baby you’re so tight, is the female equivalent of saying to a man of, God you’ve got a big cock. I don’t think you’ll fit in me.”

“You are fucking tight!”

“Thank you sweetie and, ooh you have a big cock.” We laugh. “But seriously, you don’t have to worry about that at all. Any princess who sits on this bad boy,” her pussy gives my cock another squeeze, “Won’t ever think she’s sitting on a pea.”

The fact that she can laugh and joke at a time like this swept away the last remaining fears I may have had and I can’t help but laugh with her. I didn’t care about this being my first time or that I knew so little about sex. I didn’t care that my first time was on a toilet or even that I may get arrested for having sex in said disabled/baby-changing toilet stall of my favourite coffee-house. That all meant nothing and all that was important was here and now and that I was about to fuck, or should that be get fucked, by this beautiful and amazing woman.

I pull her to me and this time I’m the one that initiates the kiss, “All the better to fuck you with my dear.”

“Now you’re getting into the spirit of it.”

She gently pulls my head down guiding my mouth towards a nipple and I follow her lead eagerly and suck it into my mouth. I lick and suck and at her instructions bite gently at the hard tips. I was a fast learner because soon enough her sighs from above told me I’m doing something right.

She starts lifting herself up off me again. But this time there is no teasing as she slides up and down with real urgency. This I think I could take except she is squeezing me with those velvet and steel muscles and her hips do small sensual twists on the down stroke to give that extra jolt of sensation.

She guides my head to the other breast and I nip and suckle on that one with more confidence and revel in her offered flesh. Then back and forth, back and forth, with one hand tightly gripping my hair she moves my mouth to pleasure her breasts. The other has slipped between us and under her bunched skirt to pleasure her clit.

I want this to last forever and I so want to do it again and again and again.

I slide my hands under her blouse and explore her soft skin. From the swell of her breasts down over her ribs to rounded hip and up the firm expanse of her shoulders and back. I want to touch and feel all of her.

By now she’s no longer just sliding up and down my cock. She’s all out fucking it. Lifting up to slam back down on me over and over again. I recognise her need and my hands are no longer just touching. I grab at her hips to strengthen the ferocity of her fucking me but also enjoying the need to hold her and pull her again and again down on to my cock.

The only sound in the stall is our heavy breathing and the erotic sound of flesh slapping against flesh. Her actions are too violent now for my mouth to taste her tits so I can only watch them bounce before me with the nipples glistening wet from my sucking on them.

Her hands tightening their grip on my head gives the first warning of the storm to come. She slams down on me one last time and the hand at her clit goes into a frenzy. I glance up and see a look of pure wonder spread across her face. It’s like she’s at the crest of some giant wave and for just a split second she’s at a perfect point of balance, but it can only last for a moment before breaking and come crashing down.

“Ugh…,” She groans out, grinds out, through clenched teeth and her head snaps back and I can see the tendons straining in her neck.

Her whimpers and body’s twitches go on for a while before she relaxes and melts into me. I wrap my arms around her to draw her close with her head resting on my shoulder as she basks in the afterglow. Her breath tickles the skin of my neck and sends delicious shivers down my spine. Shivers met by ones coming up caused by the sensation of her post-orgasmic pussy leaking girl cum slowly down my thighs and dripping off my balls.

“That was fabulous. I’d almost forgotten what it feels like to come on a real cock,” she presses her lips to my neck licking my skin, “and you have a nice cock.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you enjoying your first piece of pussy?” Her hands manoeuvre my head and allow her to trail her tongue and lips over my neck and face until we’re staring eye to eye with our lips almost touching.

“Do you like fucking my cunt?”

She must have felt the twitch of my cock reacting to her words.” I thought so. Now let’s get to the good bit.” Her face is just one lustful grin. “Where you don’t just get to fuck my cunt, but get to come deep and hard in its tight wet warmth.”

With that she clamps her lips to mine and resumes the pleasant task of fucking the hell out of me. The sensation is overwhelming and I again latch on to her hips to enjoy the tight grip of her cunt pounding my cock. She uses a similar style and ferocity in my mouth and tongue-fucks me. She controls the pace completely with her tongue sweeping and playing with my own and only retreating so as to suck on it hard.

With her soft tits rubbing up against my chest, hot wet tongue consuming my mouth and her squeezing stroking cunt fucking my cock relentlessly it doesn’t take long before the inevitable happens.

“I’m coming,” I croak, barely able to get the words out from around her lips and tongue.

She grabs my face hard between her hands to maintain eye contact before commanding. “Then come you fucker. Fuck me full of your cum. Come in my pussy. Come in my cunt!

I do as I’m commanded and she smiles eagerly at me, working her inner muscles around me. My hands at her waist squeeze so hard holding her to me that I’m afraid I may be hurting her but I can’t, won’t, let go of her for anything. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” With each grunt of each word my body spasms and my cock fills her hot cunt with my hot cum.

This time, as my body slumps, it’s she who pulls me close and holds me to her chest in a gentle and comforting way. A stark contrast to the rough aggressive style of the sex we’ve just shared.

I’m totally relaxed and utterly exhausted and don’t think I could ever move another muscle ever again. That is until she whispers in my ear, “So…was it good for you? Did you come?” and I hug her tight and giggle right along with her.

We stayed like that for a while with arms around each other and kissing softly and lazily. But without the distraction of desire, the discomfort of the hard toilet seat and what it was doing to my back and arse, eventually pulled us from the never-never-land of fantasy sex and back into the real world.

“You are a very lucky boy.”

“Don’t I just know it!”

“No I don’t mean it like that. I didn’t plan this here in the café on the spur of the moment. I’ve been thinking about it all day. I was going to do the instructor at the gym but then thought, I don’t want to do anyone in my real life and then have complications later. So then I thought a random stranger would be great. But how to have sex with a stranger and not end up the victim of a serial killer? Then you rode up on your white horse like prince charming. All sweet and kind and wouldn’t say boo to a fly and my perfect victim.”

“So I’m not your first choice and come across as a bit of a wimp? Should I feel insulted?”

“Do you feel insulted?” Grinding down on my soft cock and pulling my face to nestle between her breasts.

“Hell no,” is my muffled but exuberant reply, “I had sex. I call that a win.”

“Good boy.” She pulls away. “So now it’s time I was going.”

“I don’t suppose there’s a chance I can see you again?”

“I’m afraid not sweetie. This was a one-off, just for sex, and then we move along. I am old enough to be your mother. Well more like a wicked step-mother at least. All we have here is a…”

She must see the look in my eye.

“Oh I see. I’ve handed out the free pussy and you want some more,” she laughs, “So I’ve turned the beauty into the beast.”

“Um…Something like that.” I give her the honest reply I think she deserves. “We did have a good time didn’t we? So couldn’t we do it again?”

“How about you give me your number and maybe if I’m feeling like being a bad girl again I’ll give you a call. You wouldn’t mind me calling you up randomly and using you for sex would you? I didn’t think so,” she said smiling in response to my toothy grin.

She climbed off me and grabbing a towel from her bag wiped our combined mess from her pussy and thighs. I stay seated on the toilet with jeans still at my feet and cock hanging out feeling no shame or embarrassment but plenty of pride and happiness. I watched fascinated as she went about dressing and using the small mirror over the sink to apply a little makeup so within a few minutes she looked as stylish and sophisticated as when I first saw her.

She pulls out her phone and I give her my number and I hope, really hope that she’ll call.

Then reaching down she picks up her panties from the top of her bag and throws them to me. “Here, a keepsake for your first time and something to remember me by.”I catch and clasp them tightly in my fist. They feel nice but all my attention is completely on the woman in front of me.

She comes over and lays one last soft kiss on my lips, “Thank you for a wonderful afternoon. I shall now go to my divorce a happily well fucked and for a few hours more, vengeful wife. That should see me through being in the same room with that cheating fuck of a troll.”

But there’s no anger in her voice and she has that beautiful smile again.

“Thank you,” because I don’t know what else to say.

“You’re very, very welcome. Now come lock this door behind me or put your cock away before somebody walks in and gets a nice surprise.”

This pulls me from my happy place and reminds me that there’s a world out there and it might not approve of all of this. Standing isn’t easy as my legs are a little shaky. I don’t know if it’s from the great sex or just sitting on a toilet too long but it takes a while to get the hang of it. By the time I’ve pulled up my jeans and made myself look decent she’s gone. All that remains of her is a scrap of black lace in my pocket, the lingering scent of her perfume on my skin and a fond memory that I’ll carry happily ever after.


I just had sex!

Fuck! For the first time!

Fuck! With beautiful stranger!

Fuck! In the public toilet of a café!


I need a coffee!

Because it’s Monday.

I woke with that momentary confusion of who and where I was. But as last night’s dreams faded away, and I felt H’s body pressed warm and loving against my back, I settled comfortably into my customary conscious self.

So let me introduce myself. I’m Ms Sarah S, mother to daughters P. and F, wife to H, working mum and… The ‘Who’ train of thought was quickly met at the station by the ‘When’ and I smiled into my pillow as I happily realised that it was glorious Monday morning once again.

H doesn’t work Mondays so he can sleep in for as long as he likes. So it’s up me to rise and ensure that the family’s day commences in an organised and timely fashion. This means getting myself ready for work, taking care of any other domestic duty that the first day of the working week may bring and then dealing with our darling girls and their recurring Monday-itus.  This means dragging them from their beds after countless calls, forcing them to eat a proper breakfast and then making sure they have everything before shooing them out the door to catch the bus.

But I like Mondays… No, I love Mondays, so I don’t mind.

While he doesn’t have to get up the alarm has done its job and woken us both from our sound slumber. I could tell H was awake because while his body hadn’t moved his arm was sliding, like a weighty shadow, over me to make for the nearest breast. From long experience of his groping hands I knew that this wasn’t an invitation or announcement of intent, but more a case of ‘Breast in reach so I’ll grab it, as you don’t know when the next one will come along.’ The masculine equivalent of a ‘Good-morning,’ an ‘I love you’ and ‘Nice tits’ all rolled in to one.

But we have no time for that now.

So I pluck away the hand that’s now pillaging its way towards the other breast and roll out of bed. But sleepy men who molest their wives first thing in the morning must be punished. So after a quick trip to the loo I come back into the bedroom and kneeling on the bed I lean down and give him a soft kiss on his cheek and wish him ‘Good-morning.’ I stay like that till his eyes open he’s had a chance to briefly focus on my naked breasts displayed before him through the gaping neck-line of my Jessica Rabbit nightly. When his eyes widen with interest, but before he can react, I slip off the bed, put on my robe and head out into the hall ignoring the muttered obscenities behind me.

When I enter the kitchen, with that naughty grin still on my face, I’m met by the hungry roars of a Polar Bear and a Walrus. Well I suppose that’s the sounds our two cats are trying to make to let me know they are hungry, and shouldn’t I be doing something about it, NOW! If you are wondering why they are named Polar Bear and Walrus, the best I can do is to say one is white and the other grey. Any other explanation would have to come from my daughters. When they told me the names they wanted to use I just nodded and smiled. As long as they didn’t use H’s mothers name again like they did for the previous pet, which caused an uproar, then I was fine with it. Before you ask, no the previous pet wasn’t a she-dog… it was guinea-pig.

I feed the cats who show their appreciation by trying to trip me up by twining their way around my ankles. I manage to put on the coffee without falling on my face and watch the fearsome twosome tear into their Whiskas; as the gurgling coffee-maker fills the kitchen with a rich warm aroma.

We must have elves because no matter how much I tidy before going to bed there always a mess in the morning. So while the coffee percolates I clean up and make the place tidy. Not tidy enough for my guinea-pig of a mother-in-law but certainly presentable for a drug bust.

I’m just kidding about the drug bust. Librarian humour is an acquired taste according to H. I’m sorry; did I not mention that I’m a school librarian?

When the coffee-maker’s done I pour myself a mug and let its heat warms my hands. I walk to the kitchen window and watch the sun rise over the river and hills that back on to our humble home. I love this house and I love this view and could spend an age standing here watching the ducks in the shallows or the sheep on the far bank and hills. I consider it my private little paradise. Ok, so private is not the most fitting word to use after the odd passing angler has copped an eyeful while I’ve wandered around the kitchen naked, but it’s still my little paradise.

What could be better than coffee, cuddly cats and beautiful vistas? Monday mornings of course, but the other three are very close.

But enough of staring out the window at the world. So I head off to my ‘cubs’ caves and make the mornings first call to rouse my daughters before I head towards the shower. You don’t need to know what happened in there, do you? All I’ll say is that there was a great deal of off-key singing, thankfully drowned out by the hot and invigorating spray.

My ablutions complete I make the second call on my ‘sweeties.’ They haven’t moved of course and give me obligatory grumbles from beneath the covers, which I politely ignore. Then I’m back to the kitchen to fix us a ‘fast breaker’ of a meal that will hold them over till lunch, or the first vending machine in the school cafeteria.

I’m just serving up as they stumble in looking like, well like, teenage girls who just got up.  There are more grumbles and mumbles and they greet my cheery ‘Good-morning” like a pair of vampires facing sunlight. I only start to see their naturally sunny dispositions after they’ve filled their tummies with porridge, toast and two cups of Twinings finest. They eye my mug of coffee but know I won’t let them have any. That’s a bad habit they’ve got from their father and are only allowed to partake of when I’m out of the house and can’t tell them no.

Once feeding time at the zoo has finished and they’ve scampered off to shower and dress I tidy away the breakfast things. I could get them to do this of course, but taking into consideration the asking, reminding and threatening, I find doing it myself saves me so much more time and effort.

Anyway it’s Monday morning, as I stack dishes into the dishwasher, so I don’t mind.

Breakfast out the way means it’s time I got dressed. This is easy for me as every school day I wear the same style of long flowing skirt and button-up blouse. I look like the quintessential English school librarian, but without the glasses. Everyone complains that what I wear is boring and uninteresting, but I like it. I work in a school library for goodness sake so I’m not supposed to look fashionable or sexy. In a school with adolescents boys long skirts are obligatory, or spend a career with your knees welded together so as not to accidentally give the little dears a thrill. The one concession to my supposedly drab ‘school uniform’ is my eclectic collection of silk scarves that brighten my look, and my lingerie that brightens my mood.

As I rummage through my knicker-draw I glance across at the bed and the big lump lying beneath the covers. In a mock whisper I ask if he’s awake and receive a muffled but positive response.

Since it’s Monday, oh happiest of days, I decide to go for the good stuff and pull out the Agent Provocateur bra and knickers; black of course. This particular set H bought for me this year on his birthday. On that occasion we spent a lovely weekend in Birmingham and a good two hours on the fourth floor of Selfridges before he shelled out quite a bit of dosh for these frillies. He does so love to buy me lingerie on his birthday. He’s like a kid on Christmas morning when he gets it home and unwraps it, and when I say it I mean me, after I’ve tried it on and done a fashion parade for him. This inevitably leads to great birthday sex and because I love him, and it is his birthday, I do my best to be most accommodating.

Oh god, that’s got me blushing because it reminds me of what I got on my birthday. Which I’m certainly not telling you.

I slip off my robe but before putting on my lovely black undies I take a minute to critique the body reflected before me. Not too bad for a working mother of two who is way too close to her fortieth? Of course not what I was at eighteen, but who is? I do try to take care of myself and the school pool ‘after-hours’ helps to counter the inevitable ravages of time and too many of those orange flavoured Kit Kat’s. Striking what I hope is a sexy pose I glance back at the lump in the bed hoping for a positive response to the naked woman standing before him, but typically he’s under the covers and it looks like he’s scratching himself, or at least I hope that’s what he’s doing.

Not that he ever complains. He once drunkenly paid me the compliment, in his eyes at least, by saying that if we were ever sent back in time to fight cyborgs and Skynet he’d be chuffed to run around the place naked with me looking for clothes. If you’re wondering what I’m talking about it’s a reference to the Terminator film which H is a fan of and which he refuses to watch with me again after I said that the third one was best.

Looks like this yummy-mummy, my girls say I’m too young to be a MILF, will have to go unappreciated for now. But I don’t mind, its Monday.

I dress quickly as I hear the girls thumping about calling for me. Thus begins the search for ‘stuff’ that they didn’t bother to put away, so have no idea where it is, but expect mum to wave her magic wand and make it reappear.

But I don’t mind, its Monday.

After searching, finding, organising, instructing, hugging, kissing and wishing them a great day at school I finally get them out the front door and off to the bus stop.

I close the front door and take a moment to enjoy the blessed silence. I do love them with all my heart… But kids?

I think about one more mug of coffee but decide to leave it for H. I then head down the hall to our library to grab everything I’ll need for work. Ok, I know it’s not a real library and just the room with the PC and all the bookcases, but I’m a librarian so a room with that many books is a library to me. Checking and double checking I have it all I drop my case by the front door, all ready for when I leave.

I look at my watch and seem ok for time. I fill the cat’s water bowls and head back to the bedroom to apply some lippy and fill in those almost, but not yet, forty-year old wrinkles.

I sit at the big dressing table that was a wedding present from my parents. It’s a huge old antique with draws and space enough to keep tidy the feminine necessities of a dozen women. The wood work is only matched by the size of the mirror that soars regally over it. The whole thing sits opposite the foot of our bed so I can see the lump that is H reflected over my shoulder as I apply the last touches to my make-up. When I’m sitting here H says he’s reminded of the Phantom Of The Opera pounding away on his organ. I’m not sure I appreciate being likened to a deformed monster, but I do love this monstrosity of an antique.

One last check to make sure I don’t look like a painted clown… there we go, perfect or as close as I’m going to get.


One more thing to do before it’s off to work, because it’s Monday.

I stand; push in my seat, then reach down to grab the hem of my skirt. I pull it up over my back and then using a hair clip I pin it to the collar of my blouse. Not the greatest of looks but if I just bunch it around my waist it’ll crease. I’ve found that this is the best way to expose my bum to H with the added advantage of leaving my hands free. After giving myself a little wiggle to make sure the hair clip won’t fail I run my hands over my hips and then slowly slide my knickers down my legs till gravity can take them and they fall to my ankles.

Opening a draw I take out the bottle of Booty Lube. I do so hate the word ‘booty’ but I do love what it does to my botty. I place it on the dressing table next to me and it’s joined presently by the cutest little pink Butt Plug. It’s a glass one that H and I picked up at a shop in Canada while on holiday one year. He never lets me forget that while I dragged him into the sex toy shop and bought it, I made him carry it back through customs in his suitcase in case we were searched.

One more item goes by those two. A little square packet that will help to make sure there’s ‘no muss, no fuss.’ Not that I’m worried about H’s little boys getting in, as he had himself ‘fixed’ years ago. I’m more worried about the little buggers getting out and making a run for it down my thigh while I’m taking a class of kids. As a loving lady I don’t mind a little leakage but as a librarian I do think there’s a time and place for everything, and a gusset full of cum is not appropriate for school.

When I’m all done and ready I look in the mirror and see him getting out of bed and coming towards me. I did used to wonder how he knew when I was ready as he’s always hidden away beneath the covers. That was until he told me it’s the sound the glass Butt Plug makes as I put it on the dressing table. It makes a certain click and while it’s only a small noise, to him, it sounds like a clarion call. When it sounds he’s ready to go so we can play out, once again, our naughty Monday morning ‘Have a great day’ performance.

He’s certainly ready to go, as in very naked and very hard.  I watch in the mirror as he stops behind me and can feel his hard cock poking gently between my bum cheeks. He places a large warm hand on my left hip to unnecessarily anchor himself as he leans around me, sliding the heat of his groin over my right hip so to lean in and pick up the lube and my lovely pink toy off the dressing table.

The feel of his skin and warmth of his body react with my own and what was a tingle of anticipation that’s been smouldering all morning, since I woke and realised it was Monday, roars to life. My skin prickles and my breathing becomes heavier. My bra which perfectly fitted my just minutes ago seems a tad too tight and the lace in the cups deliciously abrasive against my now hard nipples. All this and he hasn’t even touched me. But the sensation between my legs was the centre of my attention. There was such an abundance of heat and wetness that with just the slightest encouragement would make the long slick slide from deep in my twat to coat my inner thighs.

I do hope you’ll forgive me for using all these wicked words. I do try to behave properly most of the time, but as H has pointed out on several occasions’ wantonness is quite prevalent in the nature of lady librarians.

I feel his hand on the small of my back. Not pressing or demanding but merely touching and politely asking. So I lean forward and adjust my stance till I’m grasping the edge of the dressing table and offering myself up for what’s about to come.

I stare into the mirror and watch myself watching him. He holds up the toy so I can see him anoint it with lube and make it all ‘slidey-glidey.’ For something that’s designed to pierce one’s arse it’s a gorgeous piece of art and I really regret sometimes not being able to display it to our guests. But my dream of a coffee table displaying masturbatory machines as well as magazines shatters and I bite my lip to stifle a cry as he presses his fingers between my cheeks and gently but firmly forces that cold and slippery goo into my arse.

First one finger, sliding in and out, coating my most inner flesh with an abundance of lubrication to open me up and make the second fingers entrance only the slightest bit uncomfortable. In and out, round and round, stretching and relaxing my arse to the point where any discomfort is turned to pleasure as my thrusting, back on to his fingers, can’t but help to show. A this point I’d be ready and receptive for a third but the fingers regrettably retreat from that ‘dirty’ tight hole, that’s now not as tight as it was. A naughty private hole that a good girl shouldn’t let a boy play with even if they are their husband.

As his fingers leave and without being asked I reach for a box of tissues and hold them up so he can pull out a few. I return the box, and resume my tight grip on the dressing table, as he meticulously cleans his fingers.

But he doesn’t make me wait. He grabs a cheek and pulling it open I feel him press the end of the slick toy against my most private of holes. It slowly slides in getting bigger as I consume its length. This was the reason he didn’t give me the third finger. For while three would have made the toy easier to take it wouldn’t be as much fun. I drop my head and without hesitation bear down. My wanting body responds and my muscles relax and feel it slide, or is it sucked, all the way into me until I have the base nestled between my cheeks. I feel no pain but take a moment for my body to adjust to this invasion. The pressure lowers and I am left with that wonderful feeling of complete fullness.

I lift my head and smile at the mirror announcing my readiness for more. He leans over me and gently but lovingly places a kiss on my cheek.

He shifts his stance and I take some of his weight upon my back and shoulders. One bracing hand takes its place next to mine clenched on the wood in front. The other moves to my chest and after a brief and teasing squeeze of my breasts and pinch of the nipples it slowly trails down my front to disappear under my skirt.

But I needn’t worry where it’s gone as his thick strong fingers part my inner lips and thrust into my aching wet and welcoming twat. He breaks the silence by whispering in my ear, “Mmmmm, nice cunt library lady.”

Embarrassed I drop my head for a moment and feel flushed cheeks blaze brighter. But at the same time my twat instantly reacts by gushing with wetness. His use of the C-word always has that effect on me. I can’t say it myself as my mother raised me too much of a lady to say such a bad, bad word. But I love it when he utters the ‘naughtiest of naughties’ because it’s always followed by glorious pleasure, beautiful lovemaking, great sex or just plain and simple fantastic fucking.

I may not say the C-word but I can certainly say the others.

My head shoots up and I meet his eyes once again in the mirror as his fingers slip deeper into my twat and find that special spot. He gives it a couple of teasing strokes that has me humping at his hand and demanding deeper, harder, fast and don’t ever stop. I can’t help but moan my approval at pleasures radiating from my twat.

While I’m sure my mother wouldn’t approve of the use of such words, I can’t help myself and have to utter what I want.

‘Finger fuck my twat, please!’ I beg.

I love our sex life and adore making love to H. But if there’s one thing I could do all day it’s have his, or my own, fingers thrusting in and out of my twat. I really shouldn’t tell you this. But yesterday while the kids were away and he was sitting in his favourite chair watching the England game. I stripped naked and with just a blanket around me to keep off any chill I went and sat on his lap. I found the most comfortable spot with my legs dangling over the arm of the chair while I snuggled my head and upper body into his strong warm shoulder. Grabbing his hand I guided it between my thighs and just lay there as he massaged my clit and stroked hard and rough fingers in and out of me. He’s a very understanding man and never hushed me once when my orgasm drowned out the games commentary. I could have laid there and be fingered fucked till the cows came home, or at least our kids.

It’s not just the orgasms, or that I feel totally feminine and sexy. Finger fucking puts me in a warm fuzzy place where I’m completely content and happy. I wonder if it’s how a baby must feel when they just lie there contentedly suckling on a pacifier.

When I was a girl and just starting to blossom my family moved to a new house and I was given the most wondrous of bedrooms. Well actually it was an ordinary bedroom, but what made it wondrous was that one whole wall was made up of floor to ceiling mirrors that acted as doors for the closets. This meant that apart from having a room that looked twice as big as it really was I always had a very tidy room as I had huge closet space to through my toys and clothes in.

But the life changing benefit of my magical mirrored bedroom was that I spent most of my formative teen years constantly seeing myself. As I developed, matured, grew into a young woman I was a voyeur to my life and I absolutely loved it. Looking back now as an adult I’m quite fortunate that my body always being on display didn’t cause some sort of neurosis about body image. But I was lucky enough to mostly love who I was and who I grew into.

I remember dressing up in my mother’s clothes and doing fashion shows in front of those mirrors and dancing to cheesy pop songs of the day. In fact I loved those mirrors so much that when my Grandmother had to leave her large home due to illness, and after a lot of begging, I was lucky enough to get the large mirror that hung in her sitting room. I hung on the wall above my bed and facing my mirrored closets so I could sit and watch myself watching myself, watch myself… You get the picture.

As I grew older I would stand in front of those mirrors naked and critique my body. Twisting and turning my reflection trying to make some parts bigger while others smaller. All childish fun of course until I discovered the pleasures of masturbation and then those mirrors allowed me to enjoy the thrill of being both voyeur and exhibitionist at the same time.

Many a night I’d sit in front of those mirrors with lit candles scattered across the floor, and on a nice comfy bean-bag I’d explore the wonders of my body. I started a life-long love affair with my vagina that’s continued till this day. Through practice, and I mean a lot of practice, I had the best of times with my fingers and all manner of objects deep inside me. That’s not to say that I don’t come from clitoral stimulation, but I’m just more inclined to ‘C-word fucking than clit flicking.’ I did go through a time when I thought there was something wrong with me because all my friends, when discussing wanking, described how they needed their clit rubbed to get off. Luckily my worries were put to rest by a short but passionate relationship with my piano teacher, but that’s a story I’ll tell you another time.

I think it was around this impressionable time when my love of mirrors and finger fucking became imprinted on my budding sexual psyche. I’m well aware that my fetish to see myself have sex has followed me through to adulthood, and marriage, but it’s a mild form of kinky and H doesn’t seem to mind. Oh, and because I know what you’re thinking. Mirrors… yes. Webcams and video… no.

When I finally had sex, at age seventeen, some of my best experiences were in front of those mirrors. Boys of a youngish age are not well-known for their sexual skills and have a tendency to, shall we say, be a little hasty. But in my bed with my boyfriend on top of me pumping hard between my thighs all I had to do was stare at our tangled bodies fucking in the reflection of those mirrors and I came, and I came hard, no matter what.

All these thoughts and more flash before me as his fingers send me over the edge. I desperately hump, thrust, fuck myself on to his fingers driving them deeper into me to make this feeling last as long as possible.

He’d been teasing at the start by taking me close and then pulling back. But his thick long fingers fucking inside my twat gave me what I wanted and when I came that hand was all that stopped me from falling to the floor.

I truly loved this but I was not alone.

H’s right there with me warm and strong against my back, breath hot against my ear and cheek, and with the unmistakable feel of his hard cock sliding teasingly between my cheeks and burning hot against the small of my back.

I finally catch my breath and smile as our eyes meet in the mirror. I reach for the condom and hold it out offering it to him. But he does not accept and gives a negative shake of his head. I smile and wave the condom at him again, but he shakes his head again. I repeat my action and so does he. It seems we could go on like this forever with no agreement being reached.

So in the end I give in, like I willingly do every Monday morning.

I drop the condom on to the dressing table and hand him the lube. While he takes care of preparing his cock for me I open a draw and pull out a panty-liner for later use. Like I said before, no muss no fuss.

I fixate on my reflection as he slowly pulls the toy from my arse leaving me with that open and empty feeling. But that’s soon gone as he steps up and my emptiness is filled with the hot hard length of his cock. The toy has done its intended job and he slides into me with only the faintest feeling of being stretched, and he stops only when his thighs press firmly against my bum. I love this is wonderful feeling of being bent over like this with my love deep in my arse. It makes me feel so sexy and naughty.

He leans forward and I groan anticipating the fucking to come, but it doesn’t and he’s merely leaning in to grab few more tissues to wipe his hands. He’s such a neat and conscientious husband for not wanting to get lube all over me while he fucks my arse.

But time is precious and I do have a job to get to. So he grabs my hips and starts those slow shallow strokes which quickly become harder and deeper thrusts as he senses my body’s willingness to take more. I gaze into the mirror and watch his body thrusting into me while my own rhythmically shudders in response to those thrusts.

His thrusts are becoming almost urgent now and I can tell that the happy conclusion is not far off. So with his hands clamped almost bruising to my hips and anchoring us I release my grip from the edge of the dressing table to slip my fingers into my twat and match thrusts with those hammering away at my arse.

It doesn’t take long for me to come with fingers deep inside being squeezed by the shuddering contraction of my tight twat. I ride the pleasure continuing to jam my fingers deeper and desperately trying to keep focus on my reflection so I can delight in watching myself come.

My orgasm and its resulting muscular contractions have the added benefit of making my arse tighter for H and I’m afraid it’s too much for the poor dear. I watch his face screw up in that pleasure-pain expression and feel him slam deep into me with one last thrust and hold me tightly to his groin as his body shudders and fills my arse with his cum.

For a brief but beautiful time the world fades away and there is only H and I reflected in that mirror and it makes me so very happy.

He leans closer and I turn my head feeling his stubbled skin as our mouths seek each other for the first kiss of the day. He pulls back so we are cheek to cheek once more with eyes meeting in the mirrors reflection.

‘Good morning Sarah… I hope you have a lovely day at work, and don’t let those little monsters get to you,’ and with another quick peck on my cheek it’s time for Monday to begin.

He eases his softening cock from my body and I clench my muscles to avoid a mess. He gives my bum a loving smack and then asks if there’s any coffee left? To my positive response he gives me a smile and a ‘I love you’ that doesn’t involve groping my breast. He then turns and I watch in my mirror as his beautiful naked form wanders off to the bathroom.

Ok Ms Librarian it’s time for work.

I straighten up and only now feel the slight ache of tired muscles in my legs and back. But that’s a small price to pay for some Monday morning love. I grab a few tissues to clean up down there, prideful of the wetness sticking to my thighs. Now for that messier problem that I solve by holding more tissues between my cheeks, relaxing, and letting nature take its course.

Clean and tidy as any librarian can be after getting her arse fucked over a dressing table I now turn to the task of making myself once more modestly clothed. I reach for my knickers waiting patiently at my feet and pull them up and attach the panty-liner in case I still have some of H’s love left inside me. I release the clip holding up my skirt and let it fall demurely around my legs and with a final quick look in the mirror I’m fit for public viewing.

Who would know that this frumpily dressed librarian with the happy and rosy glow in her face had it put there by her husband’s cock in her arse? I can happily live with the answer of no one; especially if they work at the same school as me. Looking at my colleagues faces on a Monday morning I’m fairly sure I’m the only one getting this happy start to the week, although I could be wrong about Roger F. the Math teacher who always has a smile on his face.

I look about the bedroom and it is a bit of a mess. A bin full of tissues, a toy to clean and the bed hasn’t even been made. But I’ll leave that to H who’s got all day to tidy, while I have a school and a library to get to.

So calling out a ‘Goodbye’ to the sound of the shower I grab my purse, keys, phone and the case by the door and head off to work gloriously happy on this marvellous Monday morning.