Stranger lust - online and real time: online

As promised I am expanding on my theme of earlier today - online chat rooms and picture swapping, something which I had a little experience of, and was about to get much more.

After the incident described in my last entry I began to become quite obsessed, in a self-centred way, with the anonymous men who were emailing Steve with requests for pictures of me in various poses, wearing various outfits. It's no wonder that Steve was building up quite a following as many of them must have believed they'd hit the mother lode - anything they asked for, Steve mysteriously had in his collection. Wedding dress on and two fingers inside herself? Sure, no problem. Dildo up her ass while she watches herself in a mirror? I think i've got something like that.

Of course, this was all possible because I was fully aware of what was going on and every evening Steve and I would pick the most interesting requests from his mailbox and I would pose for the photo. We started to gauge how arousing some ideas were by how quickly the pictures came back covered in stranger's cum, and just how many strangers "covered" me.

The wedding dress poses were always popular, as was anything in business dress or in a risky or semi-public place. During the height of this little fad we were making probably 10 pictures a week and receiving, literally, hundreds. I was masturbating like crazy - I liked to be fucked while watching the videos of stranger's wanking over my pictures and, after a while, I started looking at them on my own while I fingered myself to orgasm - sometimes waking up at night to pop into the downstairs office to look through the inbox - spreading my legs over the arms of the leather high-backed chair so my wandering fingers could get unfettered access to my wet pussy as I clicked through the filthy pictures and words these men (and occasional woman) had sent to Steve about me.

On one such evening Steve was staying away overnight on business. I had, as had become usual, been looking through cum-covered images of myself, fascinated by the variety in the size and shape of the cocks, and the colour, quantity and consistency of their cum. One set of pictures and videos in particular fascinated me. The sender was one of Steve's favourites, and they were connected on several websites and forums which specialised in these kind of pictures.

His online name was "oldguy66". The thing which captured my attention was the prolific nature of the man - Steve had often commented that he sent the best pictures and videos and was always the first to respond to a new picture. oldguy66 told Steve, at length, that I was his favourite even though he had cum on literally hundreds of other pictures (a quick search at one of the main sites came up with 416 of his pictures) and this explained why Steve could send him a new picture of me and would have the results back within 20 minutes - the guy must literally have been sitting there with his cock in his hand, waiting.

And so to his cock. One normally would go into some estimate of measurements at this stage - the forums and chatrooms are full of people laying claim to 12 inches this and 10 inches that. All I can promise you is that this thing was huge. I have, as you may know, some considerable experience of the male appendage (!) but I have never, ever seen a cock as thick as this man's. In terms of length I would say it to be a little above average. I know that Steve's is 9 inches long and oldguy66 looked comparable, but it's width looked like it wouldn't fit in a whisky tumbler.

As I watched the latest video oldguy66 had sent of himself launching jet after jet of thick, white cum onto my upturned face (wearing a nurse's outfit) and slowly trailed my left forefinger over my clit, I was amazed to see the sheer power with which he came - the veins in his cock were clearly visible as they pulsed, as was upward movement and sharp contraction of the underside of his cock - his balls were out of shot unfortunately but the first, second and third streams of cum shot from the end of his cock like water from a hose, as if released after years of being kept under pressure.

Wanting to see more of the same I clicked on the link to take me to oldguy66's profile on one of the chat and picture swap sites - I wanted to see other pictures he had uploaded.

The link took me straight to the site, and Steve's user details must have been saved because I was logged in as him. Within a few seconds I was getting private messages from other users, asking how I was, where I was - all of them with more or less the same preamble, but all eventually asking the same thing - did I have any new pictures of Jo?

This was new, and intruiging - and arousing. I was trying to decided who to talk to when I noticed that oldguy66 himself was online. I closed the other windows and started to work out how to send him a message - I didn't need to worry as within a few more seconds a chat request from oldguy66 popped up with the greeting "Hi Steve - got anything good for me today?"

I was about to explain that this was, in fact, the object of his pictorial desire speaking, when I suddenly decided not to - just to see where this would go - something told me to hold off revealing my identity for a moment, which sent another shudder of naughtiness through me.

"Hi", I typed. "Nothing new today I'm afraid - Jo is away on buiness for a couple of days".

"Oh", came the reply, "that's a shame - got a big hard on for your wife tonight - I'll have to use one of the old pics instead ;-)".

"Which one?", I asked.

"My favourite - the business suit with the short skirt and the open tailored shirt. Man I could fuck her all day and all night too in that number. When you told me that she was wearing French knickers under it I came all over my self ;-)"

"Ah...yes - the suit..", I typed, "That really does it for you huh? what sort of things would you do to her if you were with her when she was wearing that?"

"Well, I might not actually be able to get near her because my cock would be in the way, lol, but if I did manage to fight past it I'd bend her over, pull that skirt hem up over her ass and fuck her tight pussy so hard till she sucked the cum out of my balls - oh, and I'd leave those knickers on too."

I was getting into seriously turned on territory here. My pussy was aching as I slipped a finger inside myself, leaving my thumb outside to gently circle my clit.

"Any luck with setting something up Steve?", typed oldguy66.

Shit.. erm... "huh?", I replied.

"You were going to (ahem) arrange for Jo and I to meet somewhere...?".

Really? was he now? This was news to me. Exciting news, in a strange, being controlled kind of way.

I thought for a few seconds. Then a very naughty, but deliciously exciting idea started to form in my mind.

"Yeah... about that", I replied, "I'm away for a couple of nights next week, but I thought I would tell Jo it was three nights and come home before she expects me. I will arrange for her to be in a bar on that night - she'll think I'm away for the night, so if you're there and as good as you think you are with the women, you should have no problems. I'll come back while she's out and hide in the house - I don't want to miss this, if it happens.."

I was dazzled by my own cunning. In reality Steve was due away again the following week, for two nights. I was going to go out on the third night when I knew he would be back in the small hours and let this guy pick me up and take him back to ours.. If all went to plan, Steve would walk in on us with his little fantasy scenario in full swing in front of him, while he himself was still trying to figure out how to make it happen.

Usually, Steve would just have said to me, straight out that there was this guy he wanted to see me with, so I could only assume that he had some alterior, or kinky motive for wanting it to look like he had nothing to do with it - I would shortly find that part out.

"Fuck yeah", typed oldguy66, "I'm in.."

Putting my toe back in the water..

Hi,

If I have any followers left you will realise that I have not updated here for some months now. My reasons for stopping were complicated but I have been encouraged lately to re-awaken the blog (and I have to admit I enjoy doing it, as long as I get some response), in particular by Peter, so thanks for your kind words.

All is not lost as I have kept, as I have done my entire life, a pretty detailed handwritten diary which I will draw upon while I attempt to bring you up to date - I've been a very busy girl in every aspect of my professional and personal pursuits, so lot's of (I hope) interesting news to share.

I'm going to start with online developments. As some of you will know, my husband Steve is a very keen chatroom user, particularly when he is amongst like minds in his "special interest" groups - namely wife sharing, swinging, dogging, voyeurism, troilism - favourite themes around these parts and all subjects which get Steve hot under the collar and tenting his trousers (and me, by extension, dampening my knickers in anticipation).

I have always known that Steve likes to chat about me online, even swapping non-identifiable pictures and the odd home movie - in fact I have been known to sit with him when he has a particularly hot conversation going on - once we experimented with another couple where we all had to do whatever our opposite number said, like a game of "dare", which was great fun and I was made to cum (or made to make myself cum) for hours.

Things escalated in this area when I caught a glimpse on Steve's laptop of a picture of me in my wedding dress, my face obscured but otherwise a full - frontal shot of me pulling up my dress to expose my stockings and garter to the photographer in a well worn traditional pose.

Steve and I don't hide much from each other, so when I asked him about the picture he told me readily, although a little warily.

Steve explained that he had been swapping pictures and video with a man he had met in a specialist community site where the object was to post pictures of your wife or girlfriend so that other men could video or photograph themselves masturbating and coming over them and post them back.

I was a little shocked as this was the first I had heard of this, and apparently Steve had been at it for some weeks and not thought to tell me. As Steve went into more detail I could tell just how excited the whole thing had made him, and how into his new pastime he was. It certainly explained the increased number of sticky hand towels in the wash in recent weeks, and the sudden interest in a new video camera and tripod.

Steve had been a very active participant, to the point where dozens, literally, of men and even some women were sending him pictures begging for him to stroke his cock to them and cover them in his cum. I asked Steve to show me some of the pictures and he started with his own "portfolio" which consisted of maybe 50 photographs and almost as many videos of him wanking over unknown women - some very hot, some not so, most in between - but Steve sent his load flying over all of them. I wasn't entirely sure how to feel about this, after all I had seen Steve's cock buried into plenty of strangers (and a few friends) over the years, and had gasped with delight as he had let his load go over lots of their upturned, expectant faces in real time, so why did I feel a little confused over this? Was it because he hadn't told me? The reality of the situation was that, unbidden, I could feel my nipples start to push against the sheer fabric of my nightgown and the first signs of dampness between my legs as I sat on the arm of the office lounger and listened to Steve explaining the pictures of me he had sent, and got back.

The laptop screen was suddenly showing a large number of thumbnails with 2 things in common - firstly they were all of me, and secondly they were all drenched in cum, stranger's cum. As Steve flicked through them it became clear that many of them also had stranger's cocks in the shot, and some had captured the actual moment of ejaculation. Steve played a couple of videos from one of his favourite correspondents and I watched, transfixed, as the camera panned over 10 or 12 printed colour pictures of me in various poses and outfits - on holiday in a bikini, in the garden in jeans, in my wedding dress (very popular apparently) and some riskier sex stuff. There was a short preamble as a Spanish sounding voice explained to Steve exactly what he would do with me (he called me by name) if he were ever in the same room as me and then the camera pointed down to reveal a cock so fat that the sinewy fist gripping it could not close around it.

I muttered "Jesus.." involuntarily as the Spaniard started to stroke the monster, slowly at first, al the time flicking the camera from his hardening (and lengthening) cock to the array of pictures whch I could now see were arranged under a large glass-top table.

The commentary continued as the now breathless man explained that he was "going to ram my cock into Jo's ass" and commented that I was "such a horny fucking slut".

Steve glanced across at me and I saw a double take as he noticed that my nipples were clearly very erect and my face and neck were flushed. He smiled a knowing little smile and turned the volume up, "watch this bit - it's amazing", he said.

And it was. The Spaniard stopped stroking, and his heavy breathing became obvious in the ensuing quiet as he panned over my pictures. He zoomed in on a bikini shot of my in Italy and explained that it was his favourite and was going to "get his load". Then there was some jerking around of the camera and some fumbling before, to my amazement, a small red vibrator was shown to the lens. The Spaniard twisted the bottom of it and it hummed into life. Obviously well prepared, the picture flew around crazily again as the camera was clipped onto a tripod on the floor, between his legs as he straddled it. The camera was pointing straight up at his massive cock and heavy, pendulous, hairless balls and we had a clear view as his left hand came into the picture, behind his left buttock, the buzzing vibe visible between his fingers. Slowly he parted his ass cheeks and rubbed the tip of the vibe against his asshole, moaning softly to himself and stroking his cock with his right hand. He was speaking in spanish now but I clearly heard my name about every 5th or 6th word as he bent his knees and slowly, slowly, inserted the vibe into his asshole, stroking faster as he did so.

The vibrator was very thin, but still a good 6 inches long. As his fist became a blur on his cock and his balls bounced up and down, his hips bucking to meet his own strokes, at least half of it disappeared into his asshole.

I was mesmerised, glancing down to my left I saw that Steve had a massive erection causing his shorts to bulge impressively upward, stretching the material over his cock.

The Spaniard was bucking and pumping with both hands, sweating, shouting my name. Suddenly he was still - several things happened at once as Steve and I both moaned out loud, almost simultaneously;

The note of the vibe changed as he pushed the entire remaining length fully into his asshole - so far that it wasn't visible any more, his legs locked and shook and his balls, well, it's hard to describe, but they travelled slowly upward together, the chord between them visible as they squeezed upward - literally forcing the cum out of his cock. And the cum -Christ the cum.. The process was repeated as stream after stream of it flew from his cock, thick, white. A little fell toward the camera but most of it was directed at the table above us.

When he stopped coming the only thing audible was all of our heavy breathing - although the Spaniard was panting more than breathing. As he straightened his legs the vibe fell from his now relaxed asshole where it buzzed loudly, unseen, on the floor near the camera.

After a full minute the camera was picked up and the scene on the table top became visible as he slowly panned over the damage he has inflicted to my pictures.

There was cum everywhere - most of the table had got some, but the bikini shot he had nominated was totally covered - my image drenched in his cum.

I dry swallowed as he zoomed in, closing the video by trailing his thick finger (which bore a wedding ring, I noticed) through the white, creamy mess he had deposited over me, his ragged breathing still clearly audible.

Steve immediately started a slideshow of the still pictures he had been sent of me covered in strangers cum, even as I was hiking up my nightdress, dragging his massively engorged cock out of the waistband of his shorts and straddling him, facing the screen as I slid effortlessly down onto his cock - so wet I barely felt him. We fucked watching the slideshow, images of me flicking past as I came and came again on Steve's cock until he eventually grabbed my hips, flung himself hard up into me and let go his own hot load deep inside me.

My interest in chat had been, it is safe to say, re-awakened and was shortly to lead to an amazing real time session with a total stranger, which is the subject I will pursue later today on these pages.

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