Where Will I Meet You?

Once, in a previous life, I met a boy in a coffee shop and ended up sucking him off in the car park. You can read about it here. Of late I have renewed my membership of the website I use to meet prospective partners with a view to finding a regular play partner. It is an ongoing journey full of twits and turns. Those of you who follow my twitter will have some inkling. I haven’t exactly achieved my goal, yet.

This week I took a step closer to achieving my goal. After the initial flirt / message thing he proposed a face to face meeting. I was given the responsibility of choosing a venue. Mainly because it is convenient for me I decided to go with an old stomping ground, so to speak. Of course meeting close to my house means I may run into someone I know. Not really a problem until they realise the man having coffee with me is not my husband. Again not really a problem until we start with the little touches on the knee under the table, followed by more direct stroking, which leads to sitting closer together, which leads to being walked to my car, which leads to all kinds of inappropriate things… I am getting ahead of myself.

I have learnt from previous experience that revisiting particular scenarios with a different person can be a little disappointing. You can never replace the adrenalin rush of doing something daring for the first time so I didn’t allow myself to dwell too much when I parked in the car park I had used before. If the truth be told I had used this car park s lot for a lot of different errands since the initial visit. But still that initial visit was on my mind as I parked.

I was there first. There was the nervous five minutes of wondering if he would show. For some reason of late meeting for coffee has been hit and miss. Maybe I am getting older, maybe people are getting ruder. Whatever the case I have had a couple of incidents of telling the staff I am waiting for someone and then having to slip out without them noticing when the someone doesn’t show. But I saw him approach. He was tall, he strode confident,y and he had a definite silver fox look. All things that got my attention.

The actual coffee part of the situation was pretty standard. It turned out neither of us really likes coffee. It turned out he was interesting and intriguing. After a short while the little touches started. It is funny how it is hard to verbalise attraction but that first tentative meeting of fingers conveys so much. We finished and left. He walked me to my car, parked in the car park. We stood talking for a while. It was close to lunch time. There were a few people coming and going. I found myself looking at the front of his pants, wondering. It is always something I am curious about. What will come out? I don’t require extra large cock but I am not a fan of a small penis.

I realised that opening the front door of my car and sitting with my legs out would put me at the perfect height to suck him. Without really explaining what I planned in took my handbag and opened my car. He didn’t need an explanation he stepped forward and helped me ease himself out of his pants. His cock was firm, thick and veiny, a thing of beauty that needed worship. I licked my lips before taking the first taste of the soft skin. There is nothing like the feel of cock skin, it is so soft and velvety even though it covers something so hard. Moistened by my saliva he slid into my mouth.

He exhaled slowly, his hands cupped the back of my head and he whispered, that’s right. His fingers gripped my hair pulling it firmly. Encouraged I sucked harder, sliding him deeper. I could feel dampness building between my legs. I wrapped my arms around his hips so that I could grip his butt and pull him closer to me. His scent, the feel of his fingers gripping my hair and the sound of his breathing were intoxicating. I began to crave for the taste of his precum. I tilted my head to look up at him, he was leaning against the car scanning the car park but I knew his mind was on me. I wished we could be somewhere quieter, more relaxed. My cunt wished for the feel of his fingers inside me,

“Incoming, at two o’clock,” the words brought me back to reality with a jolt. His cock slid from my mouth and I looked over my shoulder at a woman walking towards her car that was parked next to mine. He gave a sound of disappointment and leaned down to me.

“Where are all these people coming from?” He asked. I looked around suddenly there seemed to be people all over the place. I wanted them to go away so that I could finish what I had started. He slid his hand inside my dress and cupped my breast pinching my nipple.

“You are such a good girl, I wish I could spend the afternoon with you not with this client,” I could see from his face that he was torn. I was torn too. He put his mouth on my breast teasing my nipple with his tongue. I felt like there was a puddle forming in my panties.

“I have to go but we will finish this sometime soon,”

We embraced and he left. I went home to fantasise about the possibilities. Sometimes revisiting old haunts with someone else can be a good thing.

TMI Tuesday Expectations

After a bit of absentee time I am back at least for the spring break. Answering these questions this week has been surprisingly therapeutic so thank you TMI Tuesday.

1. What makes you insecure?

Honestly, at the moment, almost everything. From fretting about social acceptance, to worrying about my performance as a teacher. I am really down on myself at the moment. Guilt is a dominant feature of my emotional landscape which is something I need to learn how to deal with. I am making progress some days. Other days not so much.

2. What do you expect from a romantic love relationship?

What I have in my marriage; complete honesty, acceptance and support for my life choices. My marriage is slightly unconventional in a lot of ways but it works for us and as I get older I care less about what is socially acceptable and more about what is functional for me.

3. What do you expect from a friendship?

Similarly to a romantic relationship. Honesty and acceptance. Something that many people seem incapable of. One thing that bugs me is the phrase “let’s catch up sometime” my cynical brain interprets this as “I feel like I should sound like I am interested in spending time with you but I really don’t want to commit because something better might come along”. I think sometimes I am a bit harsh on people and I know I could definitely be a better friend to many people in my life. I guess life is about the journey.

4. What do you expect from a Friends-with-Benefits situation?

High quality, inventive sex. As I tell prospective FWB’s; I am married, I can have lazy sex any time I want. I am not one of the people “stuck” in a sexless marriage. I am an adventurer looking for experiences. I don’t want fifteen minute sessions in the back of a car, or on someone’s couch. I definitely don’t want to leave feeling like, pardon the expression, a cum bucket.

5. What expectations do you have for yourself?

As I commented when reading A Gentleman in Barbarian’s Clothing I think my expectations of myself are a little high, leading to my issues outlined above. Writing this has been therapeutic to say the least and has sharpened my focus on what is important. So as of right now I expect myself to deliver high quality “content”, for want of a better word, in my life roles as a parent and as a teacher. This is something that I can deliver most of the time.

Bonus:   Post one picture (art, photograph, drawing) that depicts how you feel today.

Thi is an image that was taken a few months ago when my exotic dance instructor was putting us through our paces on chairs. It was a painful yet rewarding experience that scared the fuck out of me. The bruising is representative of how I am feeling right now. A little bruised by perhaps over committing myself in the last few months.

Just a Regular Friday Evening

This last week has been slightly crazier than normal. Well I guess we are shooting towards the pointy end of the term when assignment drafts and then their offspring actual final copies of assignments start to journey from school to my home and then back again. Sometimes they get marked, sometimes their journey is pointless. Whatever the case their presence in my bag makes me feel better when I leave in the afternoon. Especially on a Friday.

This particular Friday I left work with a few drafts, some final assignments and various ideas about upcoming units for next term in my bag. But what was in my mind was the plan to go out and be sexy. Four days of routine stuff and dealing mostly with other people’s issues left me with a desire to be just plain slutty. To that end I spent Friday drinks messaging a prospective partner in my sluttiness while some of my younger, unmarried colleagues discussed Tinder and made ribald plans for their weekend. I am pretty sure they thought that in between my jibes about their casual sex that I was messaging my daughter or some such. I am certain that they had no idea of how my evening was going to unfold. In actual fact neither did I.

After observing my ‘work son’ messaging someone with a look on his face that plainly said “I am messaging a girl I hope to fuck tonight” I left, picked up my daughter from the train, went home, made risotto and prepared myself. Dressed in a little black dress that was short but not ridiculous and showed way too much cleavage I donned my favourite shoes grabbed my Bacardi and was escorted out the door by Mr Jones.

Friday night at our local ‘club’ is single guys night. As has been the case the last few times we have visited on Friday there were definitely more sausages than buns. The quality of the offering can be a bit hit and miss but there is usually something to be had which will result in some fun.

I was in luck there was a young man, we played pool, we joked and then we proceeded to the downstairs lounge area where a serious ‘book club’ style conversation was in progress. Sometimes it is people talking about sex. This particular night I think the loungers were actually talking about television. Sad really but hey who am I to judge?

I was keen to check out what my new friend was packing. It has become one of those things that occupies my mind; “he seems nice, he looks sexy but what is in his pants?” I don’t demand a huge dick to fuck but I am not a fan of below average. So despite a bunch of people discussing football and other random stuff on the next couch zippers were unzipped and I inspected his package with my mouth. It didn’t make me gag but it did require effort to get my lips all the way down the shaft. Yes he would do.

Mr Jones loves to watch this unfold, he also loves the part that comes next. What he really loves is watching a cock inside me and seeing cum either on my body or inside me. In the interest of safety the ‘on me’ option is my go to. Something Mr Jones doesn’t like is full on play in public view. So despite some of our book club members realising there was something more interesting happening beside them we took ourselves off to a closed room where we proceeded to get naked.

I just want to say that my new friend had some skills in the pussy licking department and I found myself wishing I could let myself squirt as much as I wanted. He also hinted that he might be interested in/ good at licking my arse, something which I enjoy but not usually on a first fuck. Things progressed to the penetrative sex. I lay in Mr Jones arms with my legs in the air while he fucked me. It was very, very good. Exactly what I came For. His cock was the right size to make me do that thing where he accidentally slips out mid thrust and I squirt all over him. I realised that I am slightly addicted to that sensation in that once it happens I can’t stop myself from making it happen again. The owners of the club don’t like squirting all over their beds. It is messy and annoying to clean up. I try so hard to keep it under control but sometimes it slips out.

After s good shagging I turned my attention to Mr Jones. My new friend watched for a while as I rode my husband, loving the feeling of his cock inside me. I looked over and asked him what he would like. His response was not unexpected. What was unexpected was my response. I said yes to double penetration. Not that it was my first time. Just not something I usually consider with a guy I have just met.

It was better than I expected. Anal and I have a weird complicated relationship. Sometimes I enjoy it, sometimes it hurts like a motherfucker. Hence my reluctance to share it with new people. This was one of those enjoyable times. The feeling of fullness was amazing, as was the feeling of being sandwiched between two guys. I will never get tired of it. Ever.

The morning after I was still glowing. My arse was tingling and I was still wrapping my head around what had happened. A random pick up on a semi-spontaneous night out resulted in something that many people only ever fantasise about. I am not sure if my work son scored with the girl he was messaging. What I am sure about is that his sexual encounter was mundane compared to mine. It is always the quiet ones you have to keep an eye on.