Back in the chair..

By which I mean I have finally stopped running around the world for a while as part of an army of headless chickens all reacting to this extraordinary financial crisis, which, frankly, is now getting a little boring..

Every cloud, as they say, has a silver lining however, and I think in my case it shows itself as the opportunity to stay away from home in nice hotels in cities which I have never visited, sometimes spending as much as three weeks without seeing my husband - and I'm sure that readers of my blog will realise what kind of sexually heightened, wonderfully pent up and frustrated state that is likely to induce in me.

Such was my mood when I arrived in Mumbai (although I will probably interchange Mumbai with Bombay, as nearly everyone actually in India still seems to use the old name).  I travelled to India direct from America, where I had been for 10 days, and I had at least another 10 in Mumbai ahead of me. 

I had been working such crazy hours in the USA that even I could not fit in a decent social event, not even a trip to a nightclub to see if I could find myself a compromising position - and to be honest, even if I had I would probably have fallen asleep on the poor guy's dick - I have never been so tired.

I slept all afternoon before the Mumbai flight, woke in the early evening and had a very pleasant, sleepy phone sex session with my husband Steve, showered (during which I made myself cum with the showerhead as, unusually, although it was very pleasant, I didn't cum when Steve did), and left for the airport.

I detest air travel - not the flying itself but the whole aggravation of getting there on time, check in, security, all the rushing around which you know is only going to lead to an inevitable period of boredom and waiting once you get through it all. The only saving grace for me is that my company allows me to travel business class, so I get to use the slightly more relaxing lounges where I typically drink Vodka and read while I wait.

To avoid boring details, I found myself seated comfortably in the lounge overlooking the runway with a glass of Vodka & lemonade in my hand and the newspaper spread out on the chair next to me. Whenever the trip allows it I dress for comfort when travelling and as I was going directly to my hotel on arrival in India and had no meetings planned until the following day I had thrown on my favourite old hipster jeans, a white T - shirt and a hooded grey track top. I was wearing no makeup and my hair was down and loose around my shoulders.

My wandering train of thought was interrupted by what I initially thought to be an American accent addressing me;

"Hi - do you mind if I sit here?"

I looked up from the paper, my eyes moving quickly up to take in the black patent heels, black stockings, grey pencil - line skirt, grey jacket and finally pretty, smiling and immaculately made up face of a 30 - something woman, topped off with a deep auburn bobbed haircut.

She was indicating the leather armchair directly opposite mine, which shared the low table on which my paper was spread out. I hadn't noticed but the lounge had filled up significantly since I had first arrived and there was practically nowhere else for the woman to sit.

"Hi - no, of course, let me move some of my stuff out of your way", I replied. I gathered my handbag and cabin baggage from the chair and moved my paper and empty glasses around so that she could have some use of the table.

She arranged her belongings and sat opposite me, hitching her skirt a little to allow her to cross her legs. I drained my drink and asked if she wanted anything, given that it was free and I was going back to the bar.. 

"Umm, yeah - I'd like a Southern Comfort and Diet Coke if you're sure you don't mind", she replied.

I got the drinks and rejoined my new companion. She introduced herself as Carly, a Canadian, which became more obvious now that I had heard her say more than a few words. Carly was on my flight as she had a 3 day business stop-over en route to Australia. We were in vaguely related business fields so we chatted about the state of the world, all the boring facts and figures and the normal smattering of gossip and trying to establish if we had any common colleagues or friends.

Carly was good company - funny and self deprecating, but, most interestingly for some reason on this particular evening, I was very aware that she was either gay or bi-sexual. I have a very well developed sense of other people's sexuality - what men refer to as "gaydar" is something with which I am blessed - I've rarely been wrong, in fact I would argue that I have never been wrong, merely that the person in question has been in denial of the truth.

I was also sure that Carly fancied me - she was flirting, using her eyes, her hair and her body position to send me all sorts of sub-conscious or semi-conscious messages - and I imagine that I was responding. The mood was perfect for this kind of encounter - I was away from home, a little drunk, horny and in an experimental frame of mind. I had unzipped my track top and made a point of sitting cross-legged in the chair, leaning forward to make a confidential point about someone else in the room I focused on her eyes and saw them flick to the gap at the neck of my T-shirt, once, twice, several times. She was really struggling not to look down my top to catch a glimpse of my boobs. I gave her a break and allowed my attention to be held by the electronic departure display while maintaining the same position. I lingered over reading the display for long seconds while I felt the thrill of her eyes on me, wandering and probing. Carly actually shifted her own position in her chair so that she could get a slightly better look. 

I returned my gaze to her's slowly, with plenty of warning, and felt a glorious and unexpected thrill as she made no effort at all to avoid being caught looking at my boobs. Instead she lingered over them, then slowly moved her gaze up to meet mine, wetting her lips almost undetectably with the tip of her tongue as she did so, holding my stare for long seconds.

We were, perhaps fortunately, interrupted by our names being called over then tannoy - we had both been so carried away that we were in danger of missing the plane. 

Hurrying together to the gate we exchanged business cards and hotel names and agreed to try and meet up for a drink in Mumbai that next evening.

Once on the plane I was disappointed to find that Carly was somewhere at the back in standard class. I was seated next to a an elderly Indian couple who I had to wake to squeeze past and sit by the window even at this early stage of the flight - which suited me fine to be honest as I was in no mood for small talk.

As soon as we left the runway and the thrill of takeoff had subsided, the monotonous roar of engines and passing air sent them both off to sleep again and I put Ipod on and settled down with my book.

As I have often done in the past, I used the sexual tension of my encounter with Carly to create several delicious fantasy scenes in my head as I stared at the pages of my novel. I could clearly see me sitting on her face, he tongue busily working on my clit as Steve entered her wet pussy - Steve and I kissing deeply as he fucked her and she fucked me with her tongue.

The cabin was in darkness and the sleepy atmosphere of my neighbours had spread widely - with only one or two muffled voices occasionally breaking the peace. I had known as soon as I got aboard the aircraft that at some point I was going to masturbate, but had enjoyed putting the thought to the back of my mind - almost like some kind of self-denial ritual. Now, though, I realised, was my opportunity.

I selected one of the special tracks Steve put on my Ipod some months ago, lay my hand in my lap, under my open book, and closed my eyes.

The track I was listening to was an audio recording of me being fucked by "The Boy" - one of Steve's colleagues you may recognise from earlier posts. Steve had used a wireless microphone and as he moved around I could hear, clearly, The Boy's balls slapping against my arse, his swearing and dirty talk - calling me a filthy slut and a dirty whore, asking me if I liked his cock inside me and my breathless responses that "GOD - YES!  I FUCKING love it - FUCK ME, FUCK ME.." all the while accompanied by my husband's urgent, husky encouragement to "Fuck her harder - that's it, deeper, go on - go on, cum in her..."

I lay back, reclined in my chair, listening to this audio diary of my wantoness and rubbed myself to a huge orgasm. I had popped open the top two buttons of my jeans to allow two fingers to slide under the waistband of my knickers and rest directly on my clit. I was surprised by how wet I was before I even started to touch myself, but even more suprised when, right at the point of orgasm, when I was mentally back in our bedroom at home with The Boy's cock exploding inside me, My husband urging him on and getting in position to push his cock into me as soon as The Boy withdrew, I clearly saw, unbidden, Carly's face staring at me back in the airport lounge. This must have added to the intensity of my orgasm as It is really quite rare for me to squirt when I cum, but on this occasion I felt two or three pulses of warm liquid hit my fingers as I wet my knickers.

I turned the Ipod off and fell asleep almost immediately, waking just in time to avoid the steward who was checking that seat belts were fastened noticing that I still had a hand inside my jeans.

Tired, a little disoriented, I was pleased to learn that I had managed a feat unheard of for me - I has slept the whole way to our destination and we were preparing to descend.

Airports are airports the world over and I have been a stranger in very many cities, but Mumbai took me by surprise. I have never seen so much chaos. I loved the energy of the place immediately - it was warm and humid and we had arrived in what I assumed to be rush hour, but my driver told be that in fact it made very little difference what time of day it was to the total chaos on the roads and footpaths - so many people.

I gibbered like the greenest of tourists all the way to the hotel - asking my extremely polite driver question after question. He was a practiced tour guide and I knew a little more about the city, which he still referred to as Bombay, than when I had arrived by the time we got to the hotel.

The hotel itself was just outside the city centre - an international business and tourist chain with all the normal 4 star accoutrements. As I often do when I've been away for a while I upgraded myself to a small suite, paying the difference myself just to have a bit more room and home comfort while I was there.  

I was pleased to find that I had a bedroom, sitting area, luxurious bathroom with a huge bath in the middle of the tiled floor, and enormous double showers as well as a dressing room.

I lay on the massive bed and called Steve - I woke him up through not paying attention to the difference in time zones, again a bad habit of mine - but he was soon pleased to listen to my description of my encounter with Carly and the subsequent orgasm I had on the plane. I told him the way he likes me to - slowly, including lots and lots of detail. I was aware that he was stroking his cock and I knew he was getting close to orgasm when he started to ask me to repeat his favourite parts. Steve eventually grunted and shot his load as I was describing catching Carly looking at my boobs. I told him I was going to call her as arranged and see if we could hook up for a drink and he said "Oh yes - definitely do that.. Have you got broadband at the hotel?",

"Er... hang on", I said, looking for the room information card by the phone, "Yes - wireless, why?", I asked.

"Oh - nothing, just thinking that if you guys were to, you know, hook up, then a video conference might be in order...?"

I giggled at the naughtiness of this suggestion, but it wouldn't be the first time we'd had webcam sex - just the first time with another person present. I said my goodbyes and called up room service to send me some lunch. I ate and took a long, luxurious bath and was sitting at the desk in my hotel robe going through some email when my mobile rang with an unrecognised number. I answered it and was delighted to discover it was Carly, suggesting we meet up for a drink somewhere - she had been to India before and wasn't quite as excited about the whole adventure as I was, so suggested that instead of wandering the streets on our first night we meet up in my hotel bar as she was only ten minutes away and my hotel was nicer than hers, she said. I agreed and we set a date for about two hours time.

I pulled some jeans on and wandered downstairs to check out how formal the bars were, and if there was a dress code. There wasn't but nearly everyone was in a business suit or othwerise smartly turned out so I sent a text to Carly asking her what she was going to wear. she replied that she only really had business clothes with her and so I responded that I'd better wear a skirt.

"That sounds nice", was her reply, which got me all hot and bothered again as I hadn't even described which skirt I was going to wear to her.

I took my time over dressing, selecting in the end my navy pin-stripe skirt suit. The skirt is just above the knee and tapers with a short split in the front allowing, depending on seating arrangements, a good glimpse of my thighs should I so choose.

I wore a tailored white blouse with the top two buttons open to display my cleavage a little - I couldn't believe quite how excited I was at the thought of this meeting with Carly - maybe it was the whole tabboo thing - I had had sexual encounters with women before, but never on my own, as a pure homosexual liasion.

Underneath I was all in black - french knickers, lace top hold-up stockings and a balcony bra to enhance my favourite assets.

I was in quite a state - it had been a very sexually charged 24hrs after a drought of a few weeks, and I found myself fascinated by the floor to ceiling mirrors on three sides of my dressing room. Reverting to the behaviour of an over-sexed teenager I dropped my skirt to my ankles and immediately pushed a finger inside my pussy - which was pleasingly wet again. I masturbated myself to a frenzied orgasm in about 2 minutes flat, leaning heavily against one mirrored wall I watched in fascination as I made myself cum - I was able to see in mirror image the rear view of my stocking legs open as far as the skirt at my ankles would allow as I ground into my hand and bucked and pushed to orgasm - steaming the mirror in front of me with my breath and leaving finger and palm prints all over it.

Quickly recovering my composure I pulled my skirt back up and left the room, sharing the lift downstairs with two Indian business types who spoke animatedly to each other the whole journey. I thought, for a minute, that they were talking about me, as each of them glanced at me on numerous occassions. I put this down to just a little too much self obsession and smiled at them as they parted and allowed me to leave the lift before them at the lobby level. As they walked behind me toward the bar I heard them resume their excited chatter. They were still behind me as I entered the plushly furnished, dimly lit champagne bar and ordered a double Vodka and lemonade. The barman told me to sit and he would bring it over, so I found a pair of leather sofas facing each other over a low table, next to a window overlooking the busy street and sat down. The setup kind of reminded me of the airport lounge, which started me off on a train of thought which I had to quickly quell if I wasn't going to come across as some sort of raving lunatic when Carly arrived.

The barman arrived with my drink and I ordered another as he left. I could clearly see the main hotel entrance from where I sat and my heart quickened a little as I recognised Carly stroll through the automatic doors, gather her bearings a little and then start to walk toward the bar, toward me.

I think I had been staring at her, elegantly dressed in a red skirt and black blouse, carrying a small clutch purse for a full 30 seconds before I realised she was waving at me. I snapped out of it an smiled and waved back - gesturing for her to come and join me - although that much was obvious I suppose...

As Carly arrived I stood and we air-kissed each other's cheeks, I got a whiff of, I believe, Coco Chanel.  Instead of gripping lightly at the elbows, which is standard form for this kind of greeting, Carly allowed her right hand to settle briefly on my waist as we said "Hi", before sliding it away and taking her seat opposite me. The barman arrived and she ordered as he deposited my second drink.

What followed was one of the most blissfully flirtatious evenings I have ever had with anyone, male or female. I don't know who was responding to whom, but we were both making sure all the right signals were displayed, lots of touching, whipsering, giggling, hair flicking and asset displays - neither of us taking too much care how we parted out legs as we crossed and re-crossed them. I noticed, on several occasions, that Carly was wearing bright red knickers and a matching suspender belt and she would have been in no doubt about my underwear after the first 10 minutes.

The conversation itself was funny and wide ranging. As the alcohol flowed so the inhibitions fell and I discovered that Carly was, in fact, a bi-sexual with both male and female partners. She was very fond of an old Freddie Mercury quote I had heard before but the way she said it, as if she really meant it, made me snort with laughter, "Animal, Vegetable or Mineral Darling - I'll fuck it".

Excited as I was by Carly's proclivities, she was positively agog at mine. I described the whole swinging, swapping, voyeur and dogging scene to her as she became more and more astounded. She spat her drink several times, shouting "WHAT!!!?" as I relayed another detail of mine and Steve's adventures. She was quite envious of our relationship I think and saw sex in a very similar way to me - a means to an end, a mechanism by which to illicit pleasure.

We had both noticed, and commented, that "my" two Indian businessmen were paying us increasingly close attention as the evening wore on. After my description of picking up guys with Steve from bars to fuck me, Carly waved carelessly in their direction, seated as they were at the bar. "What, so just any reasonable guy - like say those two, you'd just go up and ask them to fuck you with Steve watching?", she asked.

"Well, that would probably work, with most guys, to be honest, but no - it's more subtle than that normally, I chat to them a bit without Steve around, then introduce the idea.", I said.

"And, ah, ", Carly hesitated, "does Steve like to watch you with other...women...ever?".

"Good God yes!", I laughed, which started her giggling too, "Steve's a bloke for goodness sake!"

We went on to discuss our various theories about why men were so into women having sex with each other, which basically degenerated into us talking about sex with women and dropping all pretence that we may not end up in bed with each other as we dicsussed our favourite positions, why women were better at oral sex, how to induce a vaginal orgasm etc.. etc.. etc..

Our conversation was having a dramatic effect on the two guys at the bar - they had stopped talking to each other at all and were merely facing us with their backs to the bar, sipping their drinks and listening in with awe-struck faces. I could clearly see a large erection filling the suit trousers of one of them, which I pointed out to Carly, who leaned over me to see if she could see it. In doing so she put her boobs directly in front of me, an inch from my nose. I almost automatically put my hands on her hips and pulled her down into my lap. Looking up and opening my mouth I met her half way as she pulled her hair back and pushed her tongue into my mouth. We kissed deeply, feverishly, for long minutes, neither of us touching any other part of the other than the face and neck, but I was absolutely soaked between my legs, and I was soon to discover that Carly was too.

Breathless, Carly stood, took my hand and pulled me up. We walked quickly, hand in hand, past the startled barman and dumbfounded businessmen.  As we past them I beckoned to them to follow us, and they didn't need a second bidding. Leaving their jackets on the stools they had occupied they hurried after us to the lift Carly had summoned and followed us in.

As the doors closed Carly backed me into the mirrored corner of the lift and started to kiss me again, running her fingers through my hair, tugging gently at my lower lip with her teeth, "Floor?" she breathed, almost panting.. "Nine", I said...,"room 919"...

One of the businessmen must have pressed the button because neither of us did. Carly had her right leg between mine and I was squeezing my thighs together on hers, feeling her suspender belt clips against my pussy. My breathing was hard and ragged and I knew if she touched me I would cum. Carly obviously knew this too because just before the lift doors opened on the ninth floor she clamped her right hand over my pussy, through my skirt, and my legs trembled against her as I came, looking into her smiling face, half an inch from mine, feeling her breath on my lips.

Now I took control. I took her hand and led her to my room, the two men half running to keep up, both now pushing large erections in front of them but still silent. I opened my room, dragged Carly inside and heard the door close behind the men as they hurriedly entered the room.

I pushed Carly back against the wall and sank to my haunches in front of her. I pushed her skirt up and moaned in delight as I pulled her knickers aside to see her pussy, waxed, like mine. "Beautiful", I heard myself say, which illicited a moan from Carly. There was a small table to my right, Carly's left and I let her know what I wanted her to do by taking her ankle and lifting her left leg off of the floor, moving it in the direction of the table. Carly balanced herself against the wall and put her left foot up on the table, about 2 feet off the floor, opening her legs further and allowing me to see her pussy lips part. I wasted no more time and buried my face between her legs, pushing my tongue inside her, tasting her and flicking back outside to roll over her clit, which was hard and prominent and easy to find immediately. Every time I pushed my tongue back inside her she moaned out loud. I worked a finger inside her alongside my tongue and within seconds she grabbed the back of my head and bent double over me, letting almost all her weight fall onto me I felt her pussy open, her muscles pulsing rythmically as she came in my mouth.

We collapsed on the bed and, minute by minute, I came back to my senses a little. Carly was stroking my hair, lying alongside me, her fingers gently caressing my pussy through my knickers. We kissed every 4 or 5 seconds, teasing each other's lips with our tongues. My hand was on her thigh, her skirt around her waist and I was transfixed by her gorgeous blue eyes.

I heard shuffling and remembered the men. I felt more hands on my thighs and half-turned to see that they both had their trousers off, and were sporting quite serious looking erections. The guy who was touching me was trying to manipulate me into a position from where he could enter me. I started to move to accomodate him but Carly said "No, Stop.. Do me - both of you do me, you (she nodded at me) I want you to watch us, like Steve does.."

I felt the familiar joy at being carried away in a sexual encounter and slid off the bed, moving a few feet away as the men approached Carly, one at her head, one between her legs. They fumbled her clothes off, which disappointed me a little until I realised this meant I was sure of a better view. 

Suddenly remembering my husband, I opened my laptop, which was on the desk behind me in "sleep" mode. I quickly connected to Steve via Messenger and typed "just watch" and started the in-built webcam. I pointed the machine in what I hoped was, and turned out to be, the right direction and got back to watching the scene before me.

Carly was on her back, the lighter skinned guy (who I later discovered was half Indian, half British) was inside her, grabbing at her and fucking her for all he was worth, using a mixture of languages depending on who the comment was addressed to. His colleague was at Carly's head, pushing his cock into her mouth as she arched her neck and grabbed for it hungrily.

I moved the chair 2 feet from the bed and opened my legs, pushing two fingers into my open, soaked pussy I started to bring myself off as I watched this glorious show.

The men were grunting and sweating, shouting and moaning like rutting pigs. Carly wasn't much better, to be honest, telling me between mouthfulls of cock what it felt like to have this total stranger inside her.

I was encouraging them and telling them what to do, which position to adopt, and they responded every time. Every time I came, which was often, I called one of the men over to suck my fingers or lick me to another orgasm before sending him back to Carly. She had told me to stop talking about her "pussy" and use the word "cunt" which I willingly did;

"Go on, fuck her with that thing, push it into her - deeper, deeper, stretch her cunt - pull your cock out, let me see how wet it is - that's good, let me see how open that cunt is - Carly - open your cunt, let me see..."

With a loud grunt the guy at Carly's head started to cum. Carly grabbed his balls from underneath and squeezed hard as he unloaded into her mouth. I saw her throat and Adams' apple moving as she swallowed. When he pulled his dripping cock out of her mouth I stood and crouched over her, kissing her deeply and pushing the remains of his cum back and forward between our mouths with our tongues. I swallowed a little of his cum and stood, taking up position behind the guy fucking her.

I put my hands round his waist, tightly, and pushed my pussy against his arse, my legs tight against the back of his I used my own body to control his thrusts, making him fuck her harder and harder as I felt his sweat run between our bodies. Carly was moaning and coming as she was pushed further and further off the bed until her head hung limply over the edge, her hair brushing the floor audibly with every one of our thrusts into her. 

I reached down and grabbed his balls, between his legs from behind. Squeezing I said, directly into his ear "Cum into her cunt, fill her cunt with your cum, go on - do it - do it - do it", over and over I repeated this into his ear until he yelled and shuddered and I felt his balls contract and jump in my hand, at which point I squeezed hard, making him jerk with a mixture of intense pleasure and pain as he shot streams of cum into Carly's pussy.

As soon as he stopped I pulled him out of the way and dropped to my knees between Carly's legs, lapping noisily at her pussy I held her lips open with my fingers as I brought her to orgasm again with my mouth. When she came Carly half sat up and squeezed her abdominal muscles hard so that I got thick globs of his hot cum dropped into my mouth with her own juices.

Several hours later I awoke to find Carly and I alone on the bed, still holding each other. The men had left some money on the desk, assuming us to be hookers of some kind I suppose, which just made us laugh when we found it. Steve had watched the whole thing, in amazement, coming himself several times - twice without touching his cock he said - and had been waiting for me to wake up before he rang me to talk about it. I put him on the phone to Carly and she and I had another, longer, gentler love making session as we passed the handset backwards and forwards between us, sharing the details with my Husband.

All in all, a very profitable trip to the sub-continent, and a memorable introduction to India..

I have some stills from the video, one of which (below) shows the lovely Carly with her admirers, and Steve is promising to edit some segments with our faces blurred out so I can post them here.

Carly is, I know, now a reader, so, darling, this is of course, dedicated to you...

x

** Sorry but I accidentally used the wrong picture of Carly first time - she hadn't approved of it's use so I've removed it, of course, apologies everyone who saw it already, and especially Carly! **

*** Hurrah! Carly has sent me a truly lovely picture (below) to use with this entry - she's HOT eh? Thanks Carly x ***

Back from an Indian adventure

Hello everyone,

Just a short entry for now - I'm a bit bleary eyed and disoriented having just returned from India. I have some exciting stuff to share though - to whet your appetites it involves a launch party, a short cocktail dress, 2 Indian men and one Canadian lady. I *may* be able to post some video footage as Steve was watching most of the action via the wonder of Skype and a webcam, and has captured lots of it. I emphasise *may* because I need to be certain we can edit out any identifying factors, but I'll keep you posted as I'd love to share..

x

The results are in...

And number 5 just pipped it - thanks for the response everyone, I was very pleasantly surprised by the amount of people who expressed an opinion, particularly the American lady who sent me her own account of being fingered to orgasm by a hitchhiker with her husband and parents in the dark car - very erotic indeed and filed in my mental bank of such material for "use" later :-)

So, my Russian adventure - well, actually my first Russian adventure...

I used to travel to Moscow several times a year for work - we had a business out there with whom we partnered and I was given the job of maintaining relationships and helping them to grow in "our" corporate mould.

At the time Moscow was a city dedicated to the pleasure of wealthy men. Capitalism had brought with it all the vices it was possible to desire, but none of the control or flimsy discretion of Western cities. My female colleagues and I became used to the direct approaches of newly fabulously wealthy middle aged Russian men, and became quite practiced at deflection and evasion - in many cases it would have been commercially damaging to piss them off, so we became diplomats, and good at it.

It was not unusual, not even rare in fact in those days, for a man to approach you, even when you were in company, and directly appraise you like he would a car or a horse - slowly looking you over from top to toe, circling around you and commenting on the parts he liked and those which he considered could be improved.

In restaurants notes would be sent to the table, or messages via the waiter, some had gone to the trouble of attempting a degree of introduction, most just told you straight out that they wanted to fuck you.

Now, I am, as you will probably have gathered by now, possessed of a somewhat unusual sex drive and appetites, and I'm definitely not saying that I didn't have lots of fun in Moscow and, sometimes, found all this attention flattering and even a little erotic, but on this particular evening I had business to do over dinner and was not in the mood for distraction.

There were 6 of us at the restaurant - myself and a male colleague from London, 2 from our Russian partner and a man and a woman from a potential customer. We had taken them to the most expensive place we had found - dark, expensive furnishings, a big name chef and a popular haunt for the Russian and Western super - rich, their mistresses and wives and the usual smattering of Mafioso.

Because we used a good fixer in Russia, we had a very good table - plenty of space for us all, right next to the floor - to ceiling street window and out of the way of the main walkway so we weren't getting constantly nudged and buffetted by people on their way in and out. The place had a gallery level, directly above us, and at the angle I was sitting I could see a large group of well dressed Russian men and their much younger, equally well dressed women sitting at a table identical to ours in size and shape.

I was wearing one of my "distraction technique" outfits - the chairman of the potential customer was exactly the kind of guy to wear it for, 50 something, handsome, lean and stylish - but vain. His vanity showed in the money he spent on himself acquiring a very unseasonal suntan, just a little too dark hair for his age and hand made suits he flew in from London, which he was keen to tell everyone who would listen all about.

My red dress was cut low enough that from the right angle above me it was just possible to discern my nipples - a bra was not possible with this garment. It clung to me in all the right places and tapered down to the top of my calves, with a long split on one side to allow me to walk. The split was useful for the strategic, "accidental" display of my black lace stocking tops if I needed to really turn on the charm.

The evening was going very well, laughter and flirting - business is all about flirting of one kind or another - eased along nicely by copious quantities of excellent Vodka and red wine. I was quite light-headed myself, having done what I always promise I won't and started smoking cigarrettes as soon as the first shot of Vodka kicked in, and lighting one after another ever since.

I was getting exactly the desired result from the chairman, sitting next to me on my left. I had had several private conversations with him, flicking my hair around with my fingers as I pondered a point he had made, making sure I didn't catch him staring down the top of my dress but also being certain to lean forward just the correct amount so that he would get a proper show. Of course, being me and being in control of the situation, I had started to get a little aroused and I could feel my nipples were hardening against the fabric of my dress, not helped by the fact that the position I was holding meant that there was a small gap between my breasts and the cloth, allowing it to brush lightly over the very tip of my nipple in a delicious way. The fact that I knew he had noticed and was staring at them made me even more excited and I had started to feel a little damp between my legs.

I was interrupted by someone asking me a question from the other side of the table and for several minutes my attention was engaged by the other members of our party. When I glanced back at the chairman I noticed his gaze was fixed rigidly upward - his head was only slightly tilted but his eyes were almost popping out with his efforts to look discretely at the table above us. Following the direction of his stare I found what he was looking at and was immediately captivated myself. 

Seated at the head of the table above us, with her right side towards us, was a very beautiful young Russian woman. She had, as many of them do, exquisite bone structure and long, flowing, platinum blonde hair. She was wearing a sleeveless, low cut dress and displaying the wealth of her boyfriend, husband or escort (you can never tell which) in the form of a long treble string of enormous pearls around her flawless neck. Her posture was perfect - she was sitting bolt upright and paying rapt attention to an older man who was relaying some anecdote about a farm he used to own (that's my recollection, but my Russian is not great to be honest). 

The point of interest, the delicious, erotic, thrilling sight which now had both me and the chairman absolutely captivated was under the table. From our angle we could clearly see that the man sitting to her left had his right hand in her lap - buried between her legs in fact - and was moving it rapidly from the wrist - his upper arm barely moving, as he worked on her pussy. I couldn't tell whether her dress was open in some way or if he was bringing her off through it, but it was obvious we had joined the action late in the day and she was coming.

She left her ankles together, I assume so as not to kick someone under the table or scrape her shoes on the floor and attract attention to herself, but splayed her thighs as wide as possible from the knee, allowing her own hand to drop to her lap she held his still and tight - I could clearly see the tendons on her knuckles strain. She tensed her entire leg, gave a tiny little buck of her hips, and slowly, slowly, relaxed and brought her legs back together.

The chairman and I just kept staring. The seating arrangement meant that although I knew what he was watching, I was sure he didn't know that I had noticed as well and in any case I think armed terrorists could have stormed the place and he wouldn't have paid them the slightest attention. I glanced quickly down at his lap - sure enough, a very visible erection was pushing against the expensive fabric of his suit. I fixed my gaze back on the woman - she really was beautiful - and then got a distinct shock as I locked eyes with the man who had just made her cum at the dinner table. We stared at each other, blank faced, for a couple of seconds, and then I smiled and slowly, deliberately, he broke into a wide grin and winked at me.

If I wasn't excited before I certainly was now. I felt heat between my legs and moisture being absorbed by my silk and lace black French knickers. I adjusted myself in my seat and, with a valiant effort, re-focused on the business at hand. I had made up my mind I was going to let the chairman fuck me tonight - whether we needed me to for the deal or not - I wanted to get laid and he was available. During the rest of the meal I kept hoping to find a discrete hand on my thigh, waiting to see if it would be knocked away, so I could grab it and move it to my crotch - but it didn't happen. Every now and then I glanced back up at the table above us, but never caught the man's eye again, nor was there a repeat performance of earlier.

Shortly before coffee arrived I excused myself and headed off to the ladies - I needed to check my makeup and maybe even relieve myself a little, plus my head had started to swim a little and I knew the only way to avoid a huge hangover in the morning was to head it off at the pass now with some migraine relief tablets I carried in my bag.

I stood and took my bag from the back of my chair and made sure I gave the chairman, if he was watching, a sexy wiggle as I walked to the back of the room to the ladies. I took my tablets, spent a few minutes re-adjusting myself, checked if I really was that damp between my legs, which I was, chuckled at myself a little shamefully in the mirror and headed for the door.

The doors from the gents and ladies toilets opened out onto a short corridor, at the end of which was another door to the main restaurant. Standing in the corridor, I assume waiting for the stunning blonde, was the man who had made her cum while we watched. I started a little as I realised who it was, but he didn't seem surprised to see me at all. He strode toward me and took my hand and, childlike, I allowed him to lead me back into the ladies. 

I remember being a little surprised that all the cubicles were empty - meaning he was not waiting for his companion, which meant... oh God - he was waiting for me..

As the toilet door swung closed he spun me around him and pushed me firmly back against it so that I completely blocked it with my body. staring straight into my eyes he kept his left hand gripping me tightly by my left shoulder and dropped his right hand to the hem of my dress.

Finding the split he pushed his hand inside my dress up to the forearm and his fingers were immediately working their way under the elastic of my knickers. His eyes widened a fraction as he touched my pussy lips and found them practically dripping with my own juices. Within another second he slid two fingers expertly inside me - the whole thing, from grabbing my hand outside to having his fingers inside me had taken no more than ten seconds. I gasped in pleasure as his fingers worked inside me - he was balancing the ball of his thumb on my clit, precise little movements making me drip onto his hand and sending bolt after bolt of little electric shocks up through my tummy.

The man increased the pace. I could feel his hardness pressing against me, but he pushed my hands away when I tried to touch it - the third time I sought it out he quite forcibly pinned my arm back against the door. Using the toe of his shoe he tapped my ankles to make me open my legs further, as far as possible, so that if his fingers had not been inside me I would have fallen.

His rythm was now fast and accurate, bringing his fingers nearly all the way out of me before pushing them fully back inside, curling them to seek my G-spot as he did so, whilst all the while his thumb circled my clit.

I was breathing hard now, moaning a little and mumbling to myself "God...oh God...Yes..". 

I was about to come and he sensed it - upping his pace yet again, his had practically blurred with the speed of it's movement. As I started to come he pushed his left forearm across my throat, moving his face to within millimeters of mine, staring intently into my eyes. He pushed me back against the door with all his strength, momentarily cutting off my oxygen, not allowing me to breathe.

Panic was quickly forgotten as a simply enormous orgasm crashed over me. I rarely squirt from my pussy when I cum, but I felt it happen this time, soaking the cuff of his shirt. My legs buckled, my nipples hurt like they had been burned, my whole body was shaking, held up only by his strength. I remember seeing little drops of my spit expelled forcibly from me as I opened my mouth wide, tilting my head back as the cords on my neck strained against his arm.

He gradually released the pressure from my throat and I sucked in air, gasping with relief that my muscles had started to relax. As soon as I could stand he removed his fingers with a very clear, wet noise and put them straight into his mouth, licking them clean. I again reached for his cock and he side-stepped me, moved me gently away from the door and left the room.

I spent a further 10 minutes re-arranging my clothing and cleaning myself up before I rejoined our table. The man was back at his seat - he was still there when we left, and we never made any further eye contact. As the waiter helped me into my heavy winter coat I glanced back up at the table one more time and was surpised to see the blonde carefully appraising me.  We looked into each other's eyes for a second or two, and then, with a very brief nod, she looked away.

I can only assume that, for once, I had played a minor role in someone else's fantasy - she obviously knew what had happened, or that something had happened between me and her man.

I've had several further Russian adventures, but this one is still by far my favourite and one I return to time and again as a masturbation aid - so I'm glad that I've now committed it to paper.

I never did fuck the Chairman, and we got the deal anyway... just shows you..

x

A bit of guidance.

So I've been thinking back to the most erotic moments in my life - not necessarily things which have happened directly to me, in some cases friends or strangers have relayed the facts to me - told me stories, and I've been so turned on I can still remember every little detail. In other cases, of course, It's ALL about me (as you know, the way I like it generally...). 

The thing is, I truly enjoy writing this blog - I love the feedback and how aroused it makes both me and Steve (he actually read an email to me from a reader while fucking me last night - he printed it out and lay the pages out on my back before he entered me), together with the subtler side which is that I believe I have become more brazen and even less controlled, sexually, since starting the blog - it's almost like I invite adventure in order to write about it.

Time being what it is, however, I would like to prioritise which entry gets written first from my "favourite erotic moments". The choices are;

1) My Police-lady friend who came in her car during high-speed chases (amongst other abuses!)

2) The couple I caught fucking in a toilet cubicle who let me watch, and got *very* turned on

3) My sister's friend who was brought to orgasm in a tube train by a stranger

4) The hitch-hiker who went down on my college friend in the back while her dad drove, oblivious. 

5) The Russian guy who followed me into the ladies toilet, fingered me to orgasm and never said a word.

So, up to you guys - the topic with the most support, either via email or comments here by Wednesday evening, I shall write up. 

Thanks in advance for your help!

x

Another fan!

According to the email this young man was reading my latest entry when this shot was taken - I find that VERY erotic, as does Steve, so any more like this, or descriptions of how reading it makes you feel or what you would like to do to me (I've had a few emails on that topic, which are interesting for me, of course, but Steve would especially like to know, so I forward them on to him at work..) are always very welcome... :-) 

x

"Dogging" re-loaded

Well - I had an entertaining Friday evening, dear reader.

You may recall I wrote about my introduction (and Steve's) to the world of "dogging" a little while ago - and you may also recall how arousing it turned out to be for me, to the point where it became one of those things which Steve and I agreed we would definitely do again - albeit we expected that we had been lucky with our first outing and that subsequent trips to local wooded car parks may not yield quite such erotic results...

Brief backstory - it becomes relevant in a little while, so bear with me. A post earlier this week relayed to you how Steve had been flashing around a picture of me at work. Well, it went down pretty well with some of the guys, in particular one of the lorry drivers, a chap called Rob, who claimed that he would work for free for a month (I bet he wouldn't if he was offered the deal) to fuck me just once.

Now, Steve told me all about this, which I, of course, in my slightly depraved way, found quite exciting - there is nothing more erotic than being desired, particularly if you are as self-obsessed as me. By the way - you will have heard me start a sentence with the phrase "there's nothing more erotic than..." before, and you will again :-)

What Steve failed to tell me was that he had given in to Rob's pleading and provided him with more pictures of me, still, as usual, careful to avoid any showing my face as you never know where they may end up, but from what I gather there were some pretty graphic ones among them from our fairly vast collection. I did know about one further picture because I posed for it - Rob had apparently begged Steve for a shot of me in the same pose as the original picture but closer, and in colour. I was a little drunk and still high on the attention when Steve passed this request on to me so I relented and we took the photo, Steve immediately emailing it to Rob;



Encouraged by my husband, Rob kept up a steady stream of emails and texts for most of the next 24 hrs, responding to Steve's questions about what he wanted to do to me, how hard his cock was as he looked at my pictures, etc..

I was, of course, very turned on by all of this talk about me and early in the evening had already been down on Steve as he chatted in MSN messenger to Rob, making him cum and then stroking him hard again, feeling his soft cock start to twitch and grow slowly in my hand until he's stiff enough for me to straddle and put inside me - I love to do this because it means he will last much longer when we fuck.

By the time things had started to quieten down it was still only about ten at night, too late though to go out, and too early to sleep, so we settled on watching a movie before bed. Steve, however, suddenly became pre-occupied with some text message conversation he had been having and suggested I get dressed.

"What for? dressed how? where are we going?" I said, slightly sulkily as I didn't relish the thought of putting any effort into my appearance at this time of night.

"You know that guy we met a few weeks ago - gave us some good parking advice?", he was grinning, "well - he's just sent me a message, apparently there's another really good place to park that he thinks we should check out - if you're up for it...?"

Tired though I was, the memories of our first dogging adventure were (and are) fresh and sharp in my mind and I felt pin-pricks of hot excitement between my legs at the thought of it..

"Yes - I'm up for it... let me get changed - 10 minutes.." I said, climbing the stairs.

"No problem", said Steve, "I need to make a couple of calls anyway."

Upstairs I made some quick decisions standing in front of my wardrobe. It's not warm in the evenings any more so I had to come up with sexy and practical in 10 minutes flat - not easy. I settled, in the end, on a denim skirt (mid thigh), thick hold-up black stockings, a tailored black shirt which is supportive enough to allow me to get away with no bra and an ankle length winter coat in black with knee length black leather boots.

As a final thought, just before I left the room and hurried downstairs, I reached under my skirt and dragged my knickers down, leaving my just-waxed bare pussy open to the evening air - which gave me a little thrill all on it's own.

As I arrived in the hallway, Steve was waiting for me, one hand on the front door, eager to leave. He looked me up and down, whistled approvingly, smiled and held the door open for me, stroking my arse once as I walked past him to the driveway and toward the driver's door of my car.

"No love - let's take mine tonight", said Steve, unlocking his enormous 7 seat Mercedes thing. "More room", he added.

I clambered up into the passenger seat of the car and we set off.

"How far is it tonight?", I asked.

"Oh - about 10 minutes at this time of night - I'm looking forward to it - are you?"

"Yes", I said, simply - looking out of the window, again recalling the first time we had done this. I felt Steve drop his hand onto my inner thigh and push up under my skirt, reaching my naked pussy he grinned and said, "fuck - you really are, aren't you?", as he wiped his now wet fingers on my coat and returned them to the steering wheel.

Very soon we were on unlit country roads and Steve slowed down at every minor turn, staring intently at the road name on the sign. After a mile or so of this he braked hard and swung down a tiny lane - only passable one way at a time - and turned the high-beam headlights on.

The road was unmade and we bumped along, having to slow down to a crawl every now and then, until eventually we saw a set of metal gates and a horizontal height restriction pole up ahead - the gates stood open and Steve stopped just outside, flashed his headlamps on and off three times, got a corresponding series of flashes from the darkness 50 yards or so in front of us and drove slowly into the car park.

"That was all very organised", I commented.

"Yeah", said Steve, "They're a bit paranoid about the old bill up here so they have this little recognition system. once the last lot are here they lock the gate and the fun starts, apparently.."

We parked, as before, at the edge of the car park - facing towards the middle. There were perhaps a dozen other cars there and a few more arrived shortly after we turned off our engine. Steve suggested that he and I get in the back of our car - I had a strong suspicion that his reason for bringing his car was the ability to fold the seats flat in the back to make a bed-sized empty space, and was expecting him to start clunking around with the seats as we clambered over to the rear of the car. Steve left the seats arranged as they were, however, in their normal upright position, and we sat and waited.

As my eyes grew accustomed to the dark I could clearly see the occupants of the vehicles on our immediate left and right. On our left was a family sized saloon with 4 men of about 18 - 25 and one older, middle aged woman - all laughing like drains but occasionally stopping to have a look around them in an expectant manner. The woman was not unattractive and smiled a couple of times when I caught her eye, but I couldn't help thinking it was an odd combination for a car load of doggers.

On our right was a small soft-top sports car with an older, perhaps early fifties, couple in it. They were staring fixedly straight ahead and not talking to each other or anyone else.

I heard a clank and some rattling of chain which made me jump. "That's it", said Steve, "gate's been shut".

"When do people sta...", the question I was about to ask became moot as in the darkness bright interior lights were being turned on, and shadows could be seen moving purposefully between cars - the clunk of doors clearly audible, as well as the odd voice or giggle.

I looked to my left, expecting the car full of lads to be scattered to the four winds, but they were all just sitting there, with the older woman, looking back at me.

Over on our right, meanwhile, I did an almost comedy double take as I glanced at the staid older couple to find her already out of the car, bent over the bonnet with her outsretched hands clamped onto the windscreen wipers and her trousers swinging around one ankle as a rather tubby young man pounded into her from behind - occasionally pulling her head back by her hair to make her stare straight into the face of her husband - still sitting in the drivers seat of the car. I could tell that he was enjoing himself too, however, from his clearly visible arm movements as he wanked himself off watching her.

Several other men had gathered around this spectacle to watch, some with the clear intent of taking their turn, if the lady was willing, and she certainly was, telling them to "get in line" and "keep those cocks hard" like some sort of kinky head mistress.

Steve had placed his hand on my upper thigh again, and was slowly working upwards towards my pussy - I was slowly parting my legs to accomodate his fingers as he reached higher. Sitting there in the dark, his hand on my leg, put me in mind of one of my favourite erotic episodes which happened some years ago, completely unplanned and unexpectedly. Steve and I were sitting in the cinema, watching some action film, when out of the blue the guy next to me, a total stranger, put his hand on my leg and started stroking it. I jumped a little and turned my head just enough so that I could see the guy was a very normal looking bloke, sitting with his other arm draped around his wife / girlfriend's shoulders - both of them staring straight ahead at the screen.

Because I'm a slut, and because I like things in my life to write about, I didn't move his hand. Encouraged, he slowly, slowly, moved his hand further and further up my legs to rest lightly on my crotch. I was excited but thought that this was probably as far as things were going to go. Steve had other ideas. He'd noticed the intruder's hand sneaking up my leg and now, slowly, stealthily, he moved his hand up my other leg and grabbed the stranger's hand just as he realised and was trying to snatch it away, knowing he was caught. Steve, however, held his hand tight and pushed it back down onto my crotch, his own hand on top of the stranger's. Once he was certain the guy had got the message, Steve released his hand and reached up under my jumper, unbuttoning my the fly of my jeans, one slow button at a time.
When my flies were fully undone Steve pulled my flies as open as was possible and literally picked up the strangers's had and pushed it inside my knickers, onto my by now very wet pussy.

I wasn't far off anyway, but what Steve did next made me cum instantly. Like a teacher showing someone how to play a guitar, Steve took the stranger's index finger between his own thumb and forefinger and, holding it by the knuckle, gently bent and pushed it inside my pussy.

For the next 45 minutes Steve and the stranger, who we never spoke to or saw again, took it in turns to finger - fuck me to orgasm after orgasm, occasionally with both of them inside me at once.

I was so busy pondering all of this that the knock on the left window of the car - nearest me - made me jump a little. I pressed the button and dropped the window when I saw it was the lady from the car full of lads on my left.

"Hi!", she said, excitedly, "I'm Lynn - is this your first time? It's my first time.."

"Hi Lynn, Jo and Steve", I replied, "no - we've been before, just the once and not here, but we had a great time.."

"Oh, I see, only, well, the lads", (at this she gestured towards the four faces looking at us from her car), "the lads were all wondering if you were going to, you know, do anything tonight 'cos they saw you arrive and get in the back and they all think you're fit..."

Lynn said this last bit with a grimace at the use of the word "fit". I was a bit thrown and told her so - I had assumed they were there with her, or she with them, or...

"Well", Lynn continued, "these 4 are all friends of my son, believe it or not. My son's in the army and away but this lot still come round regularly to see me and his dad and, well, he doesn't know but I've had one or two little flings with some of them over the years and, anyway, thing is they've all been talking about this place for months, pulling my leg about what happens up here and saying they were going to bring me up here - I thought it was all a load of rubbish but, well, long story short - here we are, and I'm now not sure what to do, but I said I'd ask you their question".

This string of words came at Steve and I with such speed and force it felt like it had been fired a us from an automatic weapon, but no, the same petite, attractive middle aged woman was standing there smiling through the window at us.

"Erm...", I said, glancing over her shoulder at the four hopeful young faces, "I'm not really sure what I'm going to do tonight myself - I may just watch, or Steve and I - ", I looked at Steve and paused, waiting for him to interject and help me out.

"Tell them", said Steve, "that Jo will fuck two of them if you fuck the other two, next to her, on the bonnet of my car."

Silence.

I looked at Steve, lost for words, but quite aroused at his assertion of control over me, using me like something in his power to grant or deny to others. I looked back at Lynn.

Lynn said, simply, quickly, "deal!", and hurried back to her car, already starting to explain to the boys as she walked.

Steve and I had a short, but not particularly serious, argument about who was calling the shots, and he offered to call it off and take me home there and then.

Leaning over, I kissed him hard on the mouth, said "a deal's a deal honey", and got out of the car.

Lynn and the four lads met me half-way between their car and ours and I was introduced, although I don't remember any of their names. They were all pretty good looking, one of them was very tall and the others of average height and build, and they all looked nervous, but expectant and excited as well.

"So - what's the decision - who get's who?", I asked, horny now, and wanting to fuck.

"Well", said Lynn, "it's these two - ", indicating the tall guy and one of the others, "who've had me before, so it seems best if I take the other two?". She leaned close to me and, nodding at the shorter of "my" two, whispered, "his cock is fucking enormous love - honest, you won't be disappointed.."

Size has never really mattered to me - sex is all in the mind after all - but I must admit I was a little fascinated so I took the hand of the boy she indicated and led him to the our car. Turning my back to him I placed my hands on the bonnet and looked through the windscreen straight into the eyes of Steve, who had moved to the driver's seat.

I spread my legs and said "come on then, fuck me", over my shoulder. There was a pause, some fumbling and noises of zips and condom wrappers being opened and then I felt hands on my upper thighs, pulling my skirt up to my waist under my coat. I shuffled my position, raising my arse as I felt the warm head of his cock searching between my legs for my opening. After several attempts, however, it was obvious that a bit of stage fright had set in and he wasn't hard enough to enter me.

I turned to face him, spread my legs wide around his and sank to my haunches so that my face was level with his crotch. I stopped and stared for a few seconds - the thing was huge - soft and hangiing limply out of his flies it must have been 7 inches long, and as thick as my wrist. I really have never seen one that big before and I was transfixed.

I was aware of him mumbling apologies and saying that this never usually happened to him, it was cold and people were watching etc.. I made soothing noises and took as much of it as I could into my mouth, stretching my lips to accomodate it. He groaned with pleasure and started, after a couple of minutes, to grow a little harder. By this time Lynn was on her back next to me on the car bonnet, he legs wrapped round one of the other guys as he rammed his cock into her shaved pussy, grunting like a pig and grabbing at her clothes, tearing her shirt and exposing her tits.

I took his cock out of my mouth for a second to say "just watch them - imagine it's a porno and you're going to wank this thing off".

The live sex show seemed to do the trick as before long I was having to half stand to keep the end of his cock in my mouth, and when I considered it hard enough and popped my mouth off of it he was pointing straight at the stars.

I vaguely remember that we had drawn a fairly large crowd by this stage and I turned my back to him once more, my pussy now very, very wet.

There was no fumbling this time - he slid straight into me and as he locked his knees mine buckled - I swear that he lifted me an inch off the ground and still I couldn't feel his balls against my arse - it still wasn't all in.

As he started to thrust into me I moaned loudly and came - looking into my husband's eyes through the screen of his car. The lad established a rythm to match the guy who was pounding Lynn a foot to our right, they were making comments to each other about how good each of our pussy's felt - although they were using the word "cunt".

Lynn was breathing very hard and saying "oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck" over and over - she reached across the bonnet and grabbed my hand, squeezing it like a woman in labour as she came hard on the young man's cock - triggering me to do the same again.

I saw Steve's arm working fast as he stared intently at the scene in front of him and I knew he had his cock in his hand. Evidently other onlookers were doing the same as I could hear appreciative comments and the occasional grunt or moan as someone came. I felt cum hit the side of my face and run off over the polished metal of the car bonnet, and hands belonging to God knows how many men were pulling my coat up, running over my thighs and arse. There were shouts of encouragement for the guy fucking me and I knew he was getting close.

Sure enough he shouted "FUCK!" just once and held me still against his cock - I could actually feel the sides of it pumping against my stretched pussy lips as he filled the condom inside me.

He withdrew from me wih a "plopping" noise and I collapsed onto the bonnet - allowing those many hands to closer inspect and explore me - several fingers slipped inside me, someone got on his knees between my legs and quickly, noisily licked me to another orgasm.

I asked Lynn, who by now had come several times herself and was busily wiping her second lad's cum from her bare chest, where my second cock was. "Oh - he went off a bit premature I think, honey - he came in your hair watching I think.." she giggled..

I pushed myself up from the bonnet on shaky arms, only to feel myself pushed firmly back down again so that my face was once again on the cold steel. Simultaneously a foot was firmly tapping my ankles further apart. I gasped as someone mounted me, pushing their cock all the way into me in one motion - truly like a dog mounting a bitch - and started fucking me frantically immediately, breathing hard and fast above me.

I heard Steve next to me on the left, and turned my face to see him standing close to me at the side of the car, his erect cock in his hand.

"Jo", he said, casually, "meet Rob from work - Rob, you're fucking Jo, my wife."

Sex is, as I said, all in the mind, and the sudden clarity that all this had been set up so that Rob could fuck me made me come harder than ever before.

Rob came quickly, inside me, with Steve encouraging him all the time to be "harder, faster, deeper", and to "go on - use her - cum in her", and then Steve stepped behind me and emptied his load as well.

As I think I mentioned before - I will be doing this again...

My new friend Lynn;

Another pic in my email - keep them coming :-)

Thankyou to this generous (and excited!) reader - I'm beginning to enjoy this!

A request from Steve..

Hi everyone,

Firstly, thankyou very much for your lovely comments in response to my latest entry - I can promise you that I enjoyed writing it just as much as you seem to have enjoyed reading it :-)

This morning I received an email from a reader containing a picture which Steve was very excited about - the guy in question had photographed himself coming over a picture of me - my picture was under what looked to be a glass table and his thick white cum was all over the table on top of it. Steve immediately printed it off and disappeared to the bathroom with it - virtually sharing me is how he put it :-)

So, if anyone else feels like doing the same, together with any sordid little details of what you were thinking about at the time, then Steve would like to hear from you - send me an email or post here and I will make sure he sees it. I must admit that the more I think about it, the more aroused it is making me as well...

In the meantime, a recent picture to get you in the mood - anyone want to hear the story behind this one? (the cock does not belong to my husband, by the way....)

Thanks in advance loyal readers :-)

x

How to make meetings more interesting..

OK, so this picture is re-created at home - it would have been a little *too* risky to try and get a shot on location, as it were, but I hope it gives you some visual cues for the story itself.

As I mentioned in my last post, I recently experienced a mind-blowing orgasm (and several little ones if I'm honest) in the middle of the day, surrounded by 13 business colleagues, and I've been looking forward very much to telling you about it.

I have been back at work part time since my injury and had agreed to go into the office for a budget planning session as it is extremely difficult to get all the interested parties together and it had been arranged for this date for several months. I was actually going a bit stir-crazy at home and so it was with a bit of a spring in my step that I got into the cab sent by my employer to collect me. I was particularly glowing because Steve and I are going through a phase of fucking first thing in the morning - immediately after the alarm wakes us, and this morning was no exception. Before I had even opened my eyes I felt Steve's hands on my thighs, pushing my legs apart, running his tongue quickly up my warm legs to my pussy. I always wake up horny, and Steve always wakes up hard, so I wasted no time at all in coming in his mouth and pushing him away so I could kneel and turn my back to him. Steve put his hands on my shoulders and pushed his rock-hard cock between my legs. With only a few seconds of fumbling his cock slipped easily into my wet pussy and he started thrusting into me. I had not been into work for a while and Steve was quite excited about the prospect - as he fucked me he was talking loudly behind me, bending closer occasionally to speak directly into my ear, saying stuff like, "Wear something hot today - low neckline, tight skirt, let those guys at your office see what they've missed, see what they want.....God... that's it baby....give them something to remember for later...when they've got their cocks in their hands...I want them to close their eyes and see you when they come....make sure they get a good look....fuck...yeah - give them something to make them hard....Jesus - I'm....Gonna......uurggghh Fuck...."

With that I felt the familiar, delicious pumping of Steve's cock inside me, and the jumping of his balls pressed tight against my arse as he shot his warm load into me.

20 Minutes later I was out of the shower and dressing in front of him as he lay, still naked, on the bed. Steve helped me choose my outfit - tailored black blouse, three buttons open so my cleavage was prominent, black lace bra with the top of the cup just visible, black French knickers and black hold-up stockings under a grey pencil - line skirt, just above the knee.

Steve's approval was obvious - I glanced at him in the mirror as I was rushing to finish my makeup and he was slowly stroking his hard-again cock as he watched me. I turned and smiled at him; "Sorry babe - you're gonna have to take care of that yourself this time - I'm late!"

"No problem", he chuckled, "you know I can deal with this myself - but I'm going to leave it till a bit later, and I'm going to make sure I tell you all about it.."

Steve knows I love that kind of kinky stuff and so I knew to expect a dirty phone call or text message at some point later in the day, which I was already looking forward to.

I heard the cab hooting it's horn outside, picked up my laptop, kissed Steve and his cock and hurried out the door.

At the office I enjoyed taking my time as I strolled to my desk, exchanging pleasantaries with people I hadn't seen in a while and catching up with the gossip, as well as making sure I took the normal notice of any guys I caught checking me out, however fleetingly, as I knew I would be expected to give Steve the details when I got home. I was surprised at the level of male attention today - perhaps it was because I had been away for a few weeks, or maybe I still had an invisible aura of sex around me from the earlier session with Steve - whatever it was I was pleased to catch several guys sneaking a look down my top and particularly a couple of junior graduates who very deliberately (and obvsiously) stood behind me in the lift so they could check out my arse without fear of discovery. This ploy would have worked had I not been in that situation before and therefore I knew exactly where to stand so I could get a pretty decent image of them reflected in the highly - polished metal strip which surrounds the lift doors.

While staring straight ahead into space I clearly saw guy 1 nudge guy 2 and nod discretely toward my arse. Guy 2 followed his gaze, glanced back at his friend and then they both grinned, spending the whole of the next minute or so we were together staring fixedly at my backside. I knew that they would be able to trace the outline of my knickers through this skirt with their eyes, and I knew that's exactly what they were doing. I hoped they were fantasising about fucking me - I toyed with the idea of turning round and asking them, or staying with my back to them and slowly shuffling my skirt to the floor so they could get a better view - maybe one day when the lift is slower :-)

Horny little tart that I am, and, of course, more than a little self-obsessed, I confess that as I finally arrived at my desk and sat down to organise my laptop I was a little damp between the legs, and more than a little distracted, which is why I jumped slightly, startled, as Tim appeared at my shoulder with a cheery "Welcome back", and sat on the edge of my desk.

Tim is one of those guys every office has - young for his 40 - odd years, successful, well dressed, tall and fit. He's got a charming smile and a naughty sense of humour and is well liked by pretty much everyone, male and female alike. Time is often the subject of girly gossip as he is a career singleton and never stays with the same girl for long - tending to appear at company functions with a very different woman to the last one we met, whom someone will always call by the wrong, long defunct name. Tim is also a target for certain of my female colleagues, who take any and every opportunity to throw themselves at him, which, to my knowledge, he has so far resisted.

Tim is not averse to giving me the odd appraising glance, however, and he was doing so now as he had a clear view straight down my partially open blouse from the elevated position in which he was sitting. He tried to keep his eyes on mine as we chatted but he seemed to be finding it almost impossible and his stare kept falling to my cleavage. 

Mischievously I stood so that my tits were directly level with his face, and about 4 inches away from him, turned my back and bent, a little too slowly to be natural, from my waist to plug my laptop into the power socket under my desk.

Tim stopped speaking and as I straightened and turned to face him he seemed a little lost - his eyes were still fixed on the spot where my arse had been seconds before and I had to speak louder to snap him out of his little trance. I made sure to remember every detail of his face to relay to Steve later on. When I told Steve that evening, I was still wearing the same outfit and Steve insisted on carrying out a reconstruction so he would know what Tim had seen. I sat at the kitchen table and Steve sat on it, next to me, and looked down my blouse.  "Mmmmm", Said Steve, "beautiful... he could see the swell of your tits, the top of your bra - the lacy part...oh - nice...and a little of your nipples, if they were hard like they are now - were they hard?"

They were.

The next hour or so passed uneventfully as I caught up with some paper work and drank too much coffee and then it was time to join the all afternoon budget meeting. I picked up my mug and laptop and went upstairs to the board room - the only meeting space large enough to accomodate so many people at once. I was amongst the first to arrive and so managed to claim the prime spot - head of the table with my back to the floor to ceiling window. Getting this place in these meetings is very important - it means you can do other work or surf the net when things get deadly boring without fear of someone overlooking you. As I sat and set myself up on the wireless network a steady stream of people entered the room, messed around getting coffee, chatted and looked disappointed that all the good seats had gone. It was a good 10 minutes till we were all settled and quiet and the Finance Director, for whom everyone else had reserved the other "top chair" opposite me at the far end of the long table, cleared his throat and welcomed everyone, starting the meeting.

My contribution to the meeting was, as luck would have it, pretty much over with in the first hour, so I could relax a little as the others got grilled in turn. I put on my serious face, as if concentrating on a business problem which really could not wait to be dealt with, and started messing around on the internet on my laptop.

After a few minutes an MSN messenger window popped up - it was Steve on his home account. I save logs of all my chat conversations by default, so I am able to reproduce everything we said to each other with complete accuracy. I have changed our nicknames, but other than that it's as it happened;

Steve: hi! what you doing?

Jo: hi you - meeting...yawn

Steve: sounds dull...i've come home - dull at my office too.. :-)

Jo: it's a wonder you ever make any money - who's gonna keep me in shoes?

Steve: lol - you have enough shoes, if not borrow some of mine

Jo: yuck. no thanks. what you up to then?

Steve: you know, this and that..

Jo: ?

Steve: thinking about you...

Jo: ohhhh... naughty man :-)

Steve: gotta do something when you're not around.. :-)

Jo: i'd love to hear about it, but i'm in a meeting :-(

Steve: so?

Jo: so - i'm busy.

Steve: i'm very hard

Jo: stop it

Steve: really, really hard. i've got some of your knickers in my hand

Jo: really steve - i'm gonna go offline

Steve: up to you, but i'm still gonna type - you don't have to answer

At this point I realised someone had asked me for some input into something and was forced to get the question repeated. I didn't look at the screen while I was talking for the next couple of minutes, and at one point I had to stand, move the length of the room and point at something behind the FD, written on a white board, before returning to my seat.

Attention moved away from me again and I looked back at my screen, feeling the unmistakeable wetness start to spread into my knickers as I read the following;

Steve: i bet there are men there

Steve: looking at you, wanting you. i bet you've seen them looking today haven't you?

Steve: i know it makes you wet to think about it. i feel how wet you get when i talk about men checking you out - you get soaked and come really hard if i tell you while i finger you

Steve: you looked so good this morning. i've already cum on my own once today - before i left for the office i lay on the bed with my eyes closed and stroked myself till i came on my chest, thinking about you

Steve: then at the office i got hard again and started asking a couple of the drivers what they thought of your picture

Jo: that bikini one on your desk?

Steve: no

Oh God - which picture was he talking about? the thought was exciting and a little concerning at the same time - I really didn't want some of the pictures Steve has, with my face visible in particular, to enter circulation..

Jo: STEVE - which one?

Steve: the one the boy sent to me :-)

I relaxed a little - now far more excited than concerned. I knew precisely which picture he was talking about - during a memorable afternoon with a young guy Steve set me up with, he had taken a picture of me bent over, braced and ready for his cock, and sent it to Steve - it had been pre-agreed apparently and Steve often talks about how he nearly blew his load in his trousers when he received it. My face is not visible.

It's an explicit picture, however, and Steve had shown it to a couple of lorry drivers at his firm..

This is it;

Jo: omg! what did they say?

Steve: :-)

Jo: ?

Steve: one of them said he'd work for free for a month to fuck you, the other asked if he could borrow the picture

Jo: did you give it to him?

Steve: gave them both a copy and they both disappeared straight away

Steve: you know what they were doing with it?

Jo: tell me

Steve: they had their cocks out, in their hands, on their knees in the toilet cubicle, your picture in front of them on the floor - stroking their cocks as hard as they could, staring at your arse until they shot their cum all over you, wishing it was inside you. i bet they'll fuck their wives hard tonight with that picture of you in their minds, eyes closed, seeing you beneath them

Steve knows that this sort of talk always gets me very wet and I had to pause for a second to look around me.. no-one seemed to have noticed my mental absence from the room or my red face and (to me) loud breathing. I got up, filled my coffee mug and sat down.

Steve: any of those guys been looking at you?

Jo: a little - got coffee just now and got a couple of looks. Tim looked down my blouse earlier

Steve: you know that statistically it's certain that some of those guys in there with you are hard

I almost gasped a little at this - but he was right, we'd talked about it at length and there was bound to be, somewhere in this room, at least one big, hard cock at this exact moment.

This was getting a little out of hand - I was seriously wet now and wriggling a little in my chair, worried that when I stood up a dark damp patch might be visible on my grey skirt.

Jo: really horny, wet. gonna leave here and call you

Steve: NO

Jo: ?

Steve: stay there

Steve: cum with me 

Steve: there

Oh God - this was seriously exciting..

Jo: what if someone sees? 

Steve: good. even better

I glanced around the room. Everyone was paying rapt attention to the FD, or at least pretending to - I probably should have been as well but they all seemed to have accepted that I was doing something very important or I wouldn't have been doing it during this meeting, an impression which suited me fine.

Jo: ok tell me

Steve: :-) good girl. i have your red satin knickers in my hand, rubbing them up and down my cock. my cock is very hard cos i've been thinking about you, and what those guys in there want to do to you. i have some pictures of you spread around in front of me - guys with cocks in you, you with cum on you...

Jo: mmmm i love when you look at them and wank

Steve: i'm stroking a little faster now - my cock is as big as it ever gets and my balls ache. i'm still wearing my suit and have my trousers down over my thighs

Steve: open your legs under the table

Steve: so that if anyone looked under there they could see your wet knickers

I did as he asked, having to discretely hike my skirt up a little to allow my knees to fully part under the table. I felt the cool breeze from the air-con playing over my wet crotch and a further trickle ran out of my pussy.

Steve: all those guys want you like i want you. imagine they just stopped talking, came over and lifted you onto the table on all fours

Jo: God - yes...

Steve: see - you want them too, you little slut!

Jo: yes, yes i want them

Steve: and then, one at a time, they line up behind you and fuck you, emptying their cum into you until you're so full it runs out of you and makes a pool of cum on the table between your knees

Jo: yes

Steve: all of them, one after another, pushing their hard cocks into your pussy and emptying their balls into you - would you like that?

Jo: yes

Steve: do you want that?

Jo: yes i do

Steve you're such a slut.... fuck....stroking faster....faster....oh GOD

Jo: mmmmmm cum for me....i'm gonna...

As I typed the words I was feeling very, very turned on, but I wasn't expecting to actually orgasm - I hadn't been touching myself at all yet I felt the sure beginnings of contractions inside my pussy, little squirts of my cum hitting the tight crotch of my knickers.. I had a truly delicious moment where I knew I could have stopped it - focused on my breathing, controlled myself, calmed down....

But I let it happen.

My orgasm was intense - several waves washed over me as my head went a little fuzzy and colours in the room brightened. I forced myself not to close my legs or drop a hand to my crotch, meaning that tiny jets of my cum made my knickers so wet that I could feel juices running over my thighs to soak into the (thankfully) fabric chair.

After a couple of minutes I regained enough composure to type a little;

Jo: wow.

Steve: yeah... you came?

Jo: yu-huh :-)

Steve: fuck - that's gonna make me hard again :-)

Jo: omg - well I AM going then! see you when I get home - save some x

Needless to say, when I did get home we had yet another wild night recounting the events of the day - Steve remembers a lot of details but he has taken to reading this blog regularly to see how I recall things - and, crucially, he really loves reading any feedback I get..

I hope you enjoyed this entry - let me know :-)

x

The riskiest orgasm yet..

I came *very* hard today in a conference room full of guys - and none of them noticed.. quite simply an amazing experience. I'm hoping you'd like to know more? Too shattered to tell you now, but looking forward to explaining all tomorrow, and more from the Canadian ski trip too :-)

Oh - and I am SO in the mood.. where are the pictures of various readers "equipment" I've been looking forward to? A girl cannot masturbate on bread alone, you know ;-)

So, where were we?

So I'm back. Sorry it's been so long but even though I can now move my arm a little and can rest it on the keyboard to type it gets achey very quickly and I have to stop and save a draft before coming back to it later, so although I have plenty to tell you and, as I'm working part-time for a few weeks now, plenty of time (in theory) to do it in, it's still going to be a a little clunky at first I think, bear with me :-)

One thing's for sure, I would have gone crazy a long time before now if not for my friends Brad and Antonio (see earlier post for picture). While I was laid up in France Steve smuggled little Antonio in for a prolonged visit and he kept me very amused for days - helped relieve the tension to some degree.

Since being granted my freedom I have re-acquainted myself firmly with Brad, in fact he is about as close to me as it is possible to be as I type this, another reason it's being written in chunks! 

I should explain that I find writing this blog to be a very erotic experience in itself - it forces me to re-live moments of my life in great detail and sends me off into a little fantasy world all of my own, so I never, ever, manage to finish an entry without masturbating, which I hope may be of interest to some of you.

There is very little to tell you about this latest trip - I was there for a day and broke my arm - oh - I did suck Steve's cock in a cable car, but that's not blogging material :-) so I thought I'd share the story of my last ski-ing trip, a while back now, where some blog - worthy adventures did happen;

As is often the case when Steve and I go on holiday, we arranged this trip to Canada with friends. We really enjoy travelling as a group and it means we can afford nicer accommodation if it's split between more of us. On this trip there were 6 of us - Daniel and Siobahn and Marcus and Liz, me and Steve.

We had rented a picture-postcard beautiful lodge for 1o days and were delighted when it turned out to look exactly as it did on the internet - it's always a bit nerve-making until you see the place for the first time but we certainly weren't disapppointed. There were more than enough bedrooms for us all and originally we were going to take a floor each, but as it turned out the top floor had the three largest bedrooms, all with balconies, so we all ended up sleeping up there with the middle floor unused and the communal areas and kitchen down on the ground level. There was a massive open fire in the very middle of the lounge around which the huge, comfy sofas were arranged.

Practially as soon as we arrived - mid afternoon - we organised ourselves and got out on the slopes to get back in practice for a couple of hours. I hadn't skied for quite a while and Daniel and Siobhan were novices so we had to maximise our time on skis to make the most of it.

After a couple of hours the sun started to set and it was getting really cold - snow, thick, brilliant white flakes - started to fall just as we got back to the lodge and flopped down on the sofas to stare into that wonderful fire. It really couldn't have been prettier - from where I lay I could see the snow falling outside through a floor to ceiling window, lit brightly by the outside lamps. Drinks flowed and the conversation was bright and funny. 

We were on the topic of dreams, having started on sleep patterns, snoring and nightmares, and Siobahn had blurted out that Daniel frequently had "wet" dreams, at the age of 35. Much hilarity ensued as the other men admitted that it happened to them occasionally still too - but Daniel seemed to have the biggest "problem" by far..

"How often is "frequently"?" I asked Daniel.

"There's no point asking him", said Siobahn,  "half the time he doesn't even wake up - just wakes me up with his moaning and shouting, does his thing - sometimes some of it goes on me I might add - then he's off to sleep again"

"So, how often?", I was chuckling at her mock outrage..

"Once, twice a night...", she answered. 

"WHAT! Every Night!?", I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

To general hilarity Siobahn confirmed that these nocturnal ejaculations were a nightly occurence and it had led to her sometimes sleeping in a seperate room when they were at home, but for the purpose of the holiday she had come prepared - with ear plugs.

Further investigation of this ailment was justified and poor Daniel had to explain the whole thing to this bunch of drunken idiots in great detail. We learned that he rarely remembered what he had been dreaming about to make him cum in his sleep (Siobahn muttered, "yeah - thanks a lot", at this) and it had been happening ever since he was 13 years old, regular as clockwork. As he got drunker he admitted that it got worse if he had not had sex for a while with Siobhan or he had seen a woman on TV or in a magazine who he found particularly arousing (I noted he was careful not to mention whether meeting actual women he fancied had the same effect).

In fact it was, it seemed, more unusual for Daniel to wake up with no dry cum on his tummy and chest than to do so, and they had just both got used to it.

"Jesus - I'd take advantage of that, Siobahn, girl", laughed Liz.  

Daniel and Siobahn exchanged a quick glance then looked studiously away from each other.

"What?", persisted Liz, "OOH - you dirty thing - you DO don't you?"

Siobahn spoke again to quell the building noise from all quarters; "Once, just once, I woke up as Daniel was murmuring and moaning - it was summer so we were not covered by bedclothes. He was lying on his back and his, you know, he was, well, erect - and I, well, I got onto it...and.."

The room had dissolved into hysterical laughter, Daniel was grinning from ear to ear and Siobahn was going a brighter shade of red than that justified by the fire.

"BUT!", Siobahn raised her voice to be heard, "BUT! - I never did it again.. because just as I was starting to enjoy myself, he shouted out someone else's name - and came!"

The room erupted again, but I could see, laughing with the others though I was, that Siobahn didn't find this last bit anywhere near as funny as anyone else, and I knew for sure that it had been a source of tension between them.

An hour or so later we all retired to our rooms. Steve and I gave each other blow jobs - our name for reciprocal oral sex, something we love to do instead of penetrative sex when the mood is right. It was my turn to go last, Steve had been sitting with his back to the bedroom wall while I stood over him and ground my pussy into his face for the best part of an hour - holding my arse with his hands he knew instinctively when my orgasm was approaching each time and pulled me tighter to him, speeding up the circular motions of his tongue as I came in his mouth. I always feel a little sorry for Steve - although he claims he loves seeing me cum more than he likes to cum himself - as, like tonight, I had cum many times, some little, some huge orgasms building up in waves so that when they finally hit Steve had to strain to support me for a few seconds and I pushed most of my weight onto my hands on the top of his head as my legs shook and strained.

When I was done and it was my turn to be "giver" I knelt slowly between Steve's legs and put my right hand under his balls. With my left on his cock, slowly stroking it all the while, I guided the tip of it between my lips and into my mouth.

Savouring, as always, the hot, almost rubbery texture of the end of his cock for a few seconds, I gradually allowed my mouth to sink down over it until he was touching the opening of my throat - I long ago learned how to suppress my gag reflex - and my face was buried in his pubic hair at the very base of his cock.

I stayed motionless for long minutes, gently massaging his balls as he breathed deep, exhaling through his mouth, trying to keep control. As I started to move on his shaft again his breathing became ragged, noisier. I heard a rythymic thumping against the wall and felt Steve stiffen. Thinking he was thrashing his head about I looked up, but he was motionless, staring at me.

I stopped moving, his cock still deep in my mouth, and we looked at each other with sudden realisation - what we could hear was the headboard in Liz and Marcus's room next door, thumping against our wall.

As we listened we could also make out voices - Liz mainly, with the occasional lower pitch of Marcus in an assenting tone. The thumping speeded up and was joined by the creak of springs in time with the movement - They were fucking, no doubt about it. Steve and I continued to look into each other's eyes - this was very exciting for both of us. Steve reached forward and pushed a hand between my thighs, slipping a finger inside my wet pussy he started to finger fuck me as I began moving on his cock again. Liz was talking - a little louder now - but the frustration was that although we could hear she was breathless and excited, we couldn't make out what she was saying - it was agony.

Gently, Steve pushed me away and stood up. He pressed his ear to the wall, listening intently. Then he moved to the door, preceded by his rock - hard cock, and slowly, gently, opened it a fraction. There was near darkness out on the landing. Siobahn and Daniel's door, opposite us, was firmly closed and no light was coming from within. I stood close behind Steve, naked as well, as he carefully opened the door fully. We could mke out the voices a lot more clearly now and for a few long seconds we just stood and listened, shivering more from excitement than the cold.

Marcus was just grunting and making affirmitive statements really, but we could make out much more of what Liz was saying  - those first snippets were very close to this;

"Fuck - she looked like such a little slut with that maid outfit on... she looked right at you...oh jesus...she wanted you to fuck her...would you fuck her?... I bet you would....did you see her arse?... lovely...she must...oh...she must have been nineteen or twenty...she wanted this cock in her Marcus....just like this...riding it like this...little whore...."

Now, all of this was said in a kind of whispered shout, which I'm sure, behind the heavy oak door of their bedroom, Liz considered inaudible to anyone but the pair of them, and had we not been alerted by the headboard banging on our wall then it may well have been the case. This, however, was incredible - Liz and Marcus's sexual fantasies, right there in front of us..

I had moved very close to their door and could now hear every word. As I listened, Steve slowly took my right wrist and placed my hand on the right-hand door frame, then put my left on the left upright, so if he had pushed me I would have hit their door with my face.

Fortunately pushing wasn't what he had in mind. I felt his knees between mine and I opened my legs and stood on tip toes as he bent his thighs and slipped his cock into my dripping wet pussy from below and behind. I gasped a little, involuntarily , as he straightened his legs and pushed all the way into me. We both froze, but needn't have worried - the occupants of the room were far too pre-occupied to notice.

Steve started to move inside me, his hands on my hips, and we fucked gently and slowly so we could hear everything Liz was saying;

"GOD...YES....I'm gonna ask her tomorrow....yes...I'm gonna ask her to fuck you, or blow you...I'll offer her money...she..oh God...she's such a fucking little whore...money...that's it..and you're gonna cum....cum - inside her - or over her - no - inside her cunt - FUCK I'm gonna, I'm gonna...OH, OH, OH....."

As Liz came both Steve and I closed our eyes and pictured it - obviously we both had good imaginations because just as my orgasm shivered through me I felt his cock starting to pump and he stopped moving, holding himself as deep inside me as he could as he let go stream after stream of cum.

We tip-toed back to our room and closed the door, conscious of the new silence which had fallen. We re-lived the whole thing in bed, whispering ideas for who Liz had been talking about to each other - we both realised it must be the maid who looked after our lodge - she had been in to build the fires, wearing a traditional grey pleat dress and white pinafore - she was young and local and quite attractive, but not notably so, but it was her Liz was fantasising about for sure. The only odd thing was that as far as either of us could remember, Marcus hadn't even seen her - he was out when she arrived and she left before his return.. 

We were very excited - we had an intrigue to solve, and an erotic one - our favourite type..

Well, my wrist is really aching now, so I'm sure you'll forgive me if I complete this over the next couple of days - believe me I am looking forward to it very much - I have been making some notes and am, slightly ridiculously, very turned on by the memories of that time...

Glad to be back - more soon

x

The lovely Liz: