Power Trip

Photo by Karolina Grabowska on Pexels.com

“Hey guys, nice to see you.” Simon,  greeted the mug shots as they popped on to the screen for the fortnightly Teams meeting. Meeting this way was a necessary evil for a school with multiple small campuses dotted around the state. Each individual campus only had one or two specialist teacher for each subject. The only way colleagues could share ideas was through meetings like this. Not that they all felt the need. But the powers that be in “The Cloud” felt otherwise and so every fortnight this group gathered to share pleasantries and stories from successful classes. 

“Hey there,” John settled into his chair. After forty years of teaching he was used to this kind of meeting. But after sixty years of life he was definitely not a fan of this impersonal kind of communication. Beside him Travis, his colleague, donned his headphones and logged in to the same meeting. While John was winding down his career and making plans for fading quietly into the background Travis was at the opposite end of his career. Full of energy and bright ideas. Also not invested in Science. He usually spent these meetings nodding away but actually working on some other work. 

“They can’t see me doing that stuff,” he explained to John. “The camera sees me at my desk. I can hear what is being said. If I need to contribute I will.” No loss to anyone and the whole meeting isn’t a complete waste of time.” 

John could never bring himself to do that. Listening to a conversation and concentrating on work was too much for him. So he sat through the stupid meeting and dreamed about retiring. 

“Helllooo everyone, sorry for being a bit late,” The broad tones of a Scottish lass pricked John’s ears. He twitched in his seat as the sound of her voice triggered a tingle in his lower regions. 

“No worries Rowan.” Simon reassured her before he began his usual spiel. John looked over at Travis typing furiously, responding to emails and constructing activities for upcoming lessons. Travis’ energy seemed tiring most days. John longed for a quiet life. One where he could go about his life with minimal disruption and be safe in the knowledge that if anything didn’t work in his classroom it was most definitely not anything to do with his teaching but rather his students’ shortcomings. 

The meeting droned on. John stifled a yawn. He really didn’t need to hear most of this stuff. Anything really important would be relayed by Travis. Then without warning there was a change in the tone of the meeting.

“In my experience,” Rowan’s voice remained calm despite the intensity John could feel, “this kind of practise never works for young people. We should be thinking a little bit more outside the box,” 

Despite himself the tingle in John’s pants became more insistent. He found himself focussing intently on Rowan’s face in a tiny square at the bottom of his screen. It was so hard to read expressions in the little mug shots but it didn’t matter; her voice was what he was responding to. There was a break in the sound of her accent as Simon tried to placate her. But she wasn’t having it. 

“I disagree,” Was that a slight increase in volume? John listened intently to the tones of her voice. Unfamiliar heat coursed through him. Why did his pants suddenly feel tight. He glanced sideways at Travis typing furiously beside him, oblivious.

 “I know other schools are taking a very different approach and it really works.” Rowan’s voice was firm, her accent more pronounced. In his mind John pictured himself as a student in her class being reprimanded by this diminutive woman. The juxtaposition of her stature and the power she radiated did nothing to calm what was now a full blown erection straining at his zipper.

Simon managed to shut the debate down. More because everyone wanted to go home than because he resolved the dispute. John allowed himself a wry smile this woman wasn’t a pushover. The whoosh sound of everyone logging off from the meeting rang in John’s ears as he removed his headphones. He stood beside his desk looking around the office. Travis had already high tailed it to the carpark. No one else was in sight. Rowan’s lilting voice was still ringing in his ears as he picked up his car keys and made his way to his car.

As he walked his erection grew it was as if she was walking beside him. As he reached his car his pants were uncomfortably tight. He slipped into the seat and fumbled with his zip. He was oblivious to the possibility of anyone seeing him. The only thing he could think about was the urgency of his dick and the sound of her voice admonishing him. His hand wrapped around his shaft and began an unfamiliar shuffle. His old wrists complained but he couldn’t stop. In his mind she was watching him sternly critiquing the size and appearance of his cock. 

His dick was harder than he could remember it being for a long time. The speed of his hand increase in response to the unfamiliar pressure building at the base of his cock. The feeling of a dam about to burst. It had been so long since he felt this feeling but he couldn’t stop now, even if he wanted to. His breath was hot and hard and his hips bucked against the car seat. Heat surged through him and a dribble of cum covered his hand. Even his ejaculation was out of practise. He sagged back against the car seat breathing heavily. His dick receding back into its usual shell. 

After a few moments his mind cleared and he looked down at the white liquid splashed over his wrist. A string of fluid bridged the tip of his cock with the fingers that had just been stroking it. He looked around the empty carpark. He couldn’t believe what he had just done. Wanking in the seat of his car like a dirty old man. He used the rag he kept behind the driver’s seat to wipe his hand clean all the time wondering what his wife would say if she knew. Worse what would Rowan say? 

He squirmed imagining her displeasure. Then his heart sank as he remembered. It would be two weeks until he heard her voice again.  

Unexpected

These pages are a record of my thoughts and experiences. Sometimes I self censor because I am worried about how personal friends will perceive some stories. But these are my pages and these are my stories. For the record the image below is not really connected to the story but I like it so I put it here. Because these are my pages and these are my stories.

Sunday started slowly. I lay in bed chatting with a man who lives 1000km away from me. He was planning a visit to “The Big Smoke”. The night before I had spent some time with a group of friends. The event had been well lubricated and I was feeling regrets about some conversations and encounters. My far away friend asked me questions about my choices. Reasonable questions, really. Although the wording was harsh. My inner monologue had already asked me the same questions. His questions prompted my defences. I tried to explain my choices by citing a compulsion to please everyone. I didn’t say it but I was also desperately afraid that he would reject me.

The conversation took a turn. A planned meeting seemed to be in question. I did something I didn’t usually do. I defended myself. I told him that I felt judged. That I thought his words were harsh and unfair. My choices were mine to make. However bad they are. It seemed we were at an impasse. My calendar had just become clear. I was irritated at disappointing, selfish and opinionated men. As I made tea and contemplated breakfast my notifications pinged. A quick glance told me it was my distant friend. I didn’t want to hear more comments about my poor choices or worse, a diatribe about being rude. So I ignored him for a while. But of course I couldn’t help myself.

I was surprised. An apology. He had taken the time to make a voice message. The opposite of what I was expecting. Despite my push back he still wanted to meet. Not what I expected. Who would have thought that speaking up for myself would be appealing.

We met at a pub near my house. I was thinking that it would be nice to have lunch together. He had travelled a long way, up until that morning our conversation had been interesting and engaging. Some sexual content but not always. My confidence was still flagging. I was still acutely self conscious. Looking back I am not sure why but there was something. It didn’t seem like this situation was different from any other but there was something.

He greeted me with even more profuse apology and our first cuddle. At the time it didn’t seem significant but I felt the pull of attraction. At the same time an awkwardness. A desire to smooth things over and make it right. The same underlying fear that he would reject me. Once this feeling was normal for me. I lived to please everyone in the universe even at my own expense. But recently I had started to approach situations like this asking myself is this right for me? What does this person do for me? But this inner voice seemed to have deserted me. Perhaps it was because I didn’t really expect this to go anywhere. He lived over 1000km away. We both had lives in completely different parts of the state. Regular meet ups are not really going to be a thing.

Lunch meandered along. We talked about many things. Vanilla things, not vanilla things. I don’t remember all of them. I do remember him looking straight into my eyes and saying something like,

“I know what I said earlier but I could eat you out for hours, right here, right now.”

On the back of a disappointing evening with someone who will likely never eat me out willingly this statement went straight to my core. I wanted to be in a bed with my legs wrapped around his head fucking his face.

Some things happened. The details aren’t important. What is important is I found myself getting naked with him. Even then it was not the way it usually is for me. This man hails from the BDSM world. He has been existing in the dominant space for a very long time. Swinging is a secondary thing for him. At the time I still hadn’t clocked this properly. I was still “thinking with my small head”. Earlier in the day he had told me that he may not fuck me. Again details aren’t important. What was important was that I was still off balance and unsure of myself. I didn’t know how this would play out. It was unsettling. I knew this was never going to be about pure unadulterated fucking.

We undressed slowly. I let him guide me. He was quick to expose my breasts. I was to learn that he has a fascination with nipples and I knew that what he had seen of mine had intrigued him. What I was unprepared for was the skill and patience he has with stimulating them. Images he had shared with me of nipple play scared me a little. It started slowly with little tweaks and gentle stimulation. He held me close to him to try and stop the wriggling. He is a strong man but the sensations coursed through me and I was fighting his embrace simultaneously trying to protect my sensitive parts and succumbing to the orgasms he was mining out of me. The line between pleasure and pain blurred. Sometimes it seemed like the same thing. Until I was lost completely and my mind started wandering. A sharp pinch brought me back.

“Yes I hurt you,” he acknowledged. We had talked about my hesitation with pain and nipple play. I had told him I was sensitive and that pain was not something I was seeking. “You need to focus.”

He moved his attention lower, extracting orgasm after orgasm by stimulating pressure points. I felt like he was trying to edge me but we were unfamiliar with each other. He underestimated how easily I can be stimulated. He pushed me to the edge many times and I allowed myself to fall over. He didn’t push me to control myself but he did hold me firmly. Keeping my legs apart by force. The intensity of the sensations was almost painful. But when I tried to close my legs he held me open, exposed to his exploring.

I do not know how many orgasms I had that afternoon. I lost count. What I do know is I had never experienced anything like it before. I wanted more. I did not expect to be aroused, challenged and drawn to an experience like this one but I was and I am.

What Are You Thinking?

Photo Rights Gemma Jones

Me: Hello

Him: Hello sweetie I was just thinking about you. 

You were thinking about me? What were you thinking?

Did you look at the photo I sent and think about seeing my arse in the flesh? Did you wonder if my skin is as smooth as it looks in the photo. Did your palms itch to grip the full roundness of my butt cheeks Did your cock harden as you thought about these things? Where did your mind wander as these thoughts flitted through your head. 

Warm in my bed with cotton sheets caressing my naked skin I fantasise about your fantasies. I imagine the feel of your hands on my arse. I imagine your strong hands gripping my hips and pulling me towards you. You spread my legs and your fingers slip between my thighs. My back arches, greedy to be explored. You do not disappoint. First you dip your fingers into my cunt there is that slick wet noise that tells everyone listening how turned on I am by you. Then you flip me over and kneel between my legs. Your hands grip my arse and pull my wet cunt to your face. 

For long, aching moments I feel your breath on my swollen clit as you inhale my scent. I want to feel your tongue on me, I want you to devour me. I try to push myself closer to you but your hands hold me firmly in place. After what seems like an eternity your tongue touches me. Soft, tentative lick. Then a pause. I squirm in your grip, wanting more. 

My patience is rewarded, or do you run out? It doesn’t matter because it seems almost instantly that your tongue is everywhere in my cunt. Like a man who has been starving for their favourite meal you taste every crevice of me. Every drop of my juice is sucked down. As you devour me your fingers dip into my greedy wet opening. I am lost in the pleasure of it. My cunt craves your cock. It wants to be filled but my clit does not want your mouth to leave. I want it all. 

Is that what you were thinking? 

It’s Always the Quiet Ones

I have been asked several times what attracts me to a man. My response has always been hard to formulate. But maybe this story will give some insight. Strong hands with capable fingers can be the sexiest part of a man. Seeing their hands doing things attracts my interest. Things like repairing a car or lifting furniture show strength and practicality. Strength and practicality can often be revealed in other places. Peeling back the layers of clothing can often reveal strength. Not the gym conditioned bulk muscle strength, but the sinewy look of a muscles that have worked hard. It is something I have only seen in older men. The kind that have had a physical job their whole life. These men often don’t display their strength deliberately they just turn up, get the job done and get on with it. You don’t notice their physique until they are naked and using your feet as decorations for their ears. 

One such man crossed my path recently. He was very quiet and unassuming. I am not a subtle person. I don’t give subtle hints, I don’t read the complexities of social interactions and I often miss details or even people if they are not loud and jangling. So it isn’t unsurprising that I missed him. Several events, several greetings, drinking, partying in the same place and he was just one of the familiar faces. He is a popular man surrounded by his own set of admirers. So I hung back and let the other women give him attention. I was oblivious to the idea that he was interested. 

And then, one night, he came up to me. Quietly, politely he put his arm around me. 

“I have liked you for the longest time.” He spoke quietly. His hand was gentle but left no mistaken impressions. He liked me. 

I was a little lost for words. He is attractive, popular and I am, well, just me. He wanted to play. I wanted him. The spirit was willing but the body was weak. I had been up and running around since 6am. We were now at the wind down part of a party which had been very busy for me. I was strangely feeling self conscious. I didn’t want to leave a negative impression. And so I bookmarked his thoughts for later.

A few months later we met again at another event. This time there was no dallying. He reminded me how he felt. Quiet intensity radiated from him as he manoeuvred me. There was no disrespect but there was determination. My body responded the way it had the first time he had stated his feelings. When we kissed I felt the warmth between my legs. A cheeky grin, strong hands and I was lost. He shepherded me to a dim place and we undressed before he lay me down on the bed. 

“I want to taste you,” A simple request. 

Despite my desire I was still a little unsettled. Even now, when people know me and my “abilities” I am still self conscious. I didn’t want to be too full on and I didn’t want to mess up a bed that other people would be using later. But he didn’t seem perturbed. And then his face was between my legs. The familiar feeling filled me and I found my hands on the back of his head guiding him as I enjoyed his tongue. I reached down and stroked his cock using it to pleasure myself before he entered me for the first time. 

“You feel amazing,”

I was lost. High on the pleasure of being thoroughly fucked. I never wanted it to end. But there was a party of people. A lot of friends to catch up with. This was just a sample of what could be at another time, in a place where we could relax and focus more on what was to come. This was just the entree.

Later I watched him with another woman. Of course he has a small harem. A man like that attracts all kinds of women. The connections with some of them are deep which is not surprising. It isn’t often I take the time to sit back and watch a partner with someone else but this time I took the opportunity to really enjoy what I was watching. I was fascinated. He is not a tall man but he is well built. Naked with his cock buried into another woman his strength and the appeal of his build is obvious. He moved her around with ease placing her the way he wanted her to be. My was constantly drawn to the lines of muscles in his chest  and legs. Something about his build appeals to me. Just watching him fucking is arousing. 

He reminded me of a silverback. Powerful and dominant over the other apes around him. His group of women are under his protection and at the same time they enjoy mating with him. He is the man everyone else longs to be. The lines of his chest will sit in my mind for a long time. The image of his thighs and arse pumping into his wife will feed my fantasies. I am unsure of how I didn’t notice this man before. 

I only hope it isn’t too long between courses. 

I had intended to make this post part of week 156 MMMonday. Time slipped away and here I am

Weekend Writing Prompt – Scribe

Sometimes I wish I had a scribe. Someone to record my thoughts as I have them.

While I am driving.

While I am working.

While I am fucking.

Especially when I am fucking. Because that is when juicy things happen. Things that come back into my mind when I am sitting in traffic or starting at my screen. When I cannot write them down. These thoughts creep into my head. Inappropriate thoughts. Thoughts that make my thighs press together and my panties damp.

But I am at work doing work things and being proper.

I just need a scribe.

Through the Door

Photo by Jose Castillo on Unsplash

“Suck my cock,” 

Thoughts tumbled through Monica’s mind as she tried make sense of the situation. 

“What?” Was the only response she could muster. 

The tall man in her doorway took a step forward. His eyes bored into hers, his scent filled her nostrils. Her heart thundered in her chest. 

“Suck my cock,” 

She stepped back trying to get some space to collect her thoughts. But his presence was the only thing she could focus on. His body towering over her, his scent filling her nostrils, the sound of his voice reverberating through her body. Memories of him tumbled through her mind. Naked, sweaty, fucking all afternoon. His head between her thighs. His cock in her hand…

Then she remembered. Tracey; sweet, innocent Tracey. All big blue eyes and dark curls. The sharp stab she had felt when he had turned up at Jackson’s twenty first with her on his arm. 

“No!” She straightened herself up. Determined not to be the one to break such a sweet girl’s heart. Determined not to let this man weasel his way back into her bed. Determined not to let him break her heart… again. 

“You know you want to.” His hand rested on his belt buckle. Strong hands that could melt her with one touch. She felt her resolve weaken. She really did want to. She really did want that gorgeous cock. But more than that she wanted to show this man who turned up on her doorstep uninvited and unannounced what was what. 

“I do want to,” she smiled up at him as her fingers opened the top button of her blouse. “The question is though, what’s in it for me?” 

More buttons opened, a pair of full round breasts spilled out. Monica cupped herself, pushing the creamy globes together as her fingers tweaked her nipples. Dark pink peaks formed stiffly in her skilled fingers but she didn’t stop looking into his eyes. Eyes that were completely focussed on her breasts. He reached out to touch what was once his to take whenever he wanted. But not today. Monica dodged him by kneeling on the floor out of reach. 

“No touching,” She admonished. 

He seemed a little taken aback by the shift in power. 

“What?” The strong brow furrowed and confusion flitted through his dark eyes. 

“No touching, until you have earned it.” Deftly Monica opened his belt buckle. With a soft jingle his jeans hit the floor. “Besides, I thought you wanted me to suck your cock.” 

For emphasis she rested her lips on the hard rod of his cock tasting him through the fabric of his boxers. She heard his breath exhale as she slid the waistband down to free him. With a satisfied sigh she opened her lips and slid them over the smooth skin of his head. Her tongue swirled, tasting the drop of pre-cum. She allowed herself the pleasure of feeling every inch on the familiar ridges wetting him thoroughly as her lips slid deeper. 

He staggered backwards to lean against the door frame, his breathing jagged and harsh.

“Fuuuuck you suck cock so well,” His hands reached down to cup the back of her head. 

Monica tilted her head up to look into his eyes briefly before she began to move her head back and forth, fucking him with her mouth. His breathing became harder.

“You are such a good girl,” he whispered. “Tracey can’t suck cock like that.” 

They were the exact words she needed to hear. Abruptly she stood up and placed her hands on his chest. 

“And that my friend is why you can get the fuck out of my house!” 

She shoved him hard through the still open doorway and slammed the door closed leaving him standing on her porch with his jeans still around his ankles. For long moments she leaned against the inside of the door breathing heavily as her heartbeat subsided. There was a long pause before she heard the faint jingle of his belt. 

“Fuck you! Slut!” He yelled through the wood of the door. 

Monica smiled to herself before pulling herself to her full height. 

“Not today arsehole!” She replied before padding away to her bedroom. 

As the faint sound of his car speeding away drifted through her window Monica slid her largest dildo deep into her wet aching cunt. 

Big Hands

Sitting at my desk on an average Thursday morning I received a message from a friend who was enjoying a deep sea fishing expedition. Whilst his intent was to share his incredible catch my eyes slid past the bulging eyes and gaping mouth of the fish and focussed on the hand holding it. Thick strong fingers gripping the shiny silver creature. Fingers that can do so many things, fix a fence, stroke a puppy, dispense medication. 

And give pleasure. 

With the pressures of the school day waiting at my office door I found my mind wandering to the things those hands could do. Times we had spent together filtered through my mind. He makes daggy jokes and is a king of puns. Humour is the sexiest of traits. But when the lights go down the hands come in to play.

It starts with kisses. Soft, teasing kisses and tentative stroking. But before long we find ourselves on a bed. He lays me down and spreads my legs. His lips move down towards my nipples. His attention is soft, making me feel like a treasure. His hands move downwards, teasing my thighs and inching towards my groin. With reverence he seeks out the secrets of my folds. He touches my clit softly before sliding down the slick trail to the entrance to my vagina. He has been here before. We have fumbled and explored and learned and he knows where to place his fingers. He knows that the part of me that gets the best reaction is right at the front. 

His fingers hook slightly and he taps that button extracting the first real spasm of pleasure. He puts his head between my thighs and applies his tongue. My body melts into the bed as hot pleasure seeps through me. My body twists and turns but his other hand holds me firmly. His face presses deeper against me. I feel a jet of liquid escape me and I cannot hold it back. Like a man who is dying of thirst he presses his face against me drinking in my juice. I cannot hold back and his attention is rewarded with more juice. 

I lose track of time. All that I am aware of is his mouth on my cunt and his fingers inside me, twisting and teasing creating waves of pleasure. Eventually I am spent. I press my hands on his forehead signalling a time out. His face appears between my thighs, chin coated in juice. He moves so that he is lying beside me and we snuggle for a while warm and comfortable. Even then, in the down time, his hands roam over my body stroking and soothing, teasing my nipples and tracing the curve of my thighs. 

After while we are joined by our partners. We watch our partners enjoying each other while we stroke and nibble at each other’s bodies. His fingers slide into my cunt drawing pleasure while his other hand cups my breast. His wife writhes in pleasure as my husband’s cock enters her filling her cunt. He starts out thrusting slowly. Drawing out before sliding back into her wet cunt. Beside me I feel his cock harden. 

Before I realise his body is between my legs and his hard cock is at the entrance to my greedy wet cunt. His fingers, that filled me earlier grip my shoulders as he slides inside me. Before long we are matching their rhythm. The bed squeaks to the rhythm of us fucking. The room is filled with the sounds of our orgasms. Slowly the pace increases building tension. 

I reach out and lock fingers with his wife. Our heads are turned watching each other and our husbands. We kiss briefly soft woman kisses as our cunts are filled with cock. If there was a way to be in sync with each other we would be like this forever. But our moment is interrupted imminent climax. My body, as ever in sync with my lovers, alerts me to his excitement. I arch my hips towards him aching to feel the warmth of his seed filling me. I look up at his face revelling in the pleasure I see there. 

“I am close,” he whispers urgently. 

“Fill me with your cum,” I encourage him. My cunt is hungry to be filled with his cumin she will not be disappointed. 

Beside me I hear my husband climaxing. My cunt clenches in anticipation. She is not disappointed. Strong fingers grip my shoulders as my friend groans in pleasure. He thrusts hard and his cock pulses as he empties his seed deep inside me. After long moments he rests his body on top of mine. The four of us are piled together enjoying the afterglow before the need to pee motivates me to wriggle out and make my way to the bathroom.

“Thank you for coming,” he quips after my reiterating figure. 

Beside him on our bed his wife groans. 

Lucky he has good hands. 

In the Writing Badlands

Photo by Drew Dau on Unsplash

Whenever I ask my Young People to write something the inevitable first question is “How much do I have to write?” Any response greater than about ten words will be greeted with “THAAAT much! I don’t know what to write.” Putting aside the obvious teacher and education related things here it astounds me that humans who NEVER shut the fuck up can’t put words on a page. Recently in this situation my response was, “If you wrote everything you said since you walked in here today you would have at least 3000 words on this page!”

I have been writing for most of my life in some form or another. I have written some things I am really proud of and then at other times I have written complete garbage. Usually the best things fall out of my head without too much effort. The things I cringe about when I read them back are things that have to be dragged out but I still don’t understand really a complete inability to write SOMETHING. Even if it is bad.

Back when I first started blogging I participated in a weekly prompt meme. I found it really really helpful to develop my skills. Back then I didn’t have a full time job and my kids were in school. Time wasn’t really an issue I could dick around on the internet for hours and still get my words done. I knew when I started teaching that I would struggle to keep the momentum going. I was right but over the years the ebbs and flows of work and life have let me write some things I am proud of and also caused periods of time when I have been marking time on these pages.

Last night a friend messaged me about my writing of late indicating that I seemed to be a little down. I assured him that I was working through some stuff and I was OK.

Am I OK? I think so. I visit the head doctor in a few days I will let you know after that.

Is my writing OK? Not sure. It isn’t at it’s peak right now but it isn’t dead yet. Just resting.

Friday Flashback – Happy Birthday

Early in our swinging journey we were interacting with a very sexy couple. The wife of the couple arranged a birthday surprise for him in a hotel room. This is what happened

Photo by Tony Yakovlenko on Unsplash

The small white card slipped into the lock of the hotel door, the light turned green and there was a small click as the lock released. As I pushed the door handle down I took a deep breath screwed up my courage and stepped inside. The room was softly lit and he was lying on the bed dressed in a black shirt and trousers the way his wife said he would be. I placed a small metal case I was carrying on the table as I walked over to him and bent down to kiss him on the lips.

“Happy Birthday” I murmured softly. 

I could feel his eyes watching me as I turned and placed a chair in the middle of the room and set up my iPod. Without speaking I returned to the bed took his hand to guide him towards the chair. His deep brown eyes were watched my every movement as I shrugged out of my coat. His eyes opened wide as he took in my body, the dress I was wearing and the way it hugged my curves. I started the music and moved to stand in front of him.

“You may not touch.” I said softly as the music started. With my fingernail I traced around his full lips before leaning down to taste him briefly again. His hand reached up to touch my breast, I pushed it firmly away.

“No touching,” I wagged my finger as I started to dance around him. My body moved in time to the music, gyrating and twisting around him. His brown eyes filled with lust as I slowly removed my clothing. I straddled his lap as I reached behind my back to remove my bra. His fingers twitched as my full globes shook free in front of his face. Provocatively I placed my hands under my breasts and caressed my nipples right in front of his eyes. 

I reached over and unbuttoned his shirt, scratching his nipples with my fingernails. As the song ended I stood him up and unzipped his jeans. Carefully I slipped my hands inside his boxers and eased out his cock. 

“Yummy,” I whispered as I knelt in front of him and rubbed his velvety smooth erection against my cheek before opening my mouth and sliding my lips down his shaft. I tilted my head so that I could watch the pleasure on his face as I sucked him deeply down the back of my throat. His sighs of pleasure turned to moans. In my mouth his cock swelled further and grew harder.

“Stop!” his voice was urgent with lust.

I opened my mouth and let his length slide slowly out of my mouth. My face was tilted upwards watching him. For a few moments I kneeled at his feet watching him as he stood over me breathing heavily. I unfolded myself to stand in front of him. In my heels and a g-string I was almost as tall as him. 

“What would you like?” I asked.

“To touch you,” he reached out towards me. 

“That is against the rules,” I stepped back a little and pushed his hand down beside his body. I guided him back to the bed. “Lie down.”

Obediently he stepped out of his trousers and boxers and lay down, naked on the bed with his hands behind his head. Standing beside the bed I studied his body for a moment, letting my eyes feast on the smooth lines of his chest and the trail of hair leading downwards from his belly to his hard cock. Hooking my thumbs into the waistband I slid my knickers down over my ass and then kneeled on the bed over his chest. My freshly shaved pussy was inches from his face and I could see him looking hungrily at it. 

“Do you want to taste me?” I whispered.

“May I?” he asked politely.

“How could I refuse such a polite gentleman?” I moved my body so I was straddling his face. His tongue lapped at me exploring my folds. Waves of pleasure coursed through me and His hands gripped my hips. I was so caught up in the moment that I didn’t notice the lapse in the rules. When I thought he had enough I pulled away from him. I knelt for a moment looking down at his face before I kissed him and licked my juice off his lips. 

Without speaking I moved downwards so I was straddling his cock. I moved my hips over his hardness, grinding my swollen pussy against it, pleasuring myself before I reached for a condom. His hands returned to their position behind his head as I rolled the sheath down over his manhood. 

“What do you want?” I asked softly as I kneeled above him with the tip of his cock resting against the entrance to my cunt. 

“You know what I want.” He responded with a cheeky smile.

“Oh you want this?” I allowed an inch of him to slide inside me.

“Perhaps,” he teased.

I lifted my body and eased him out of me. “Maybe I should do another dance for you.” I teased.

He reached out and grasped my hips and flipped me down on the bed. “I don’t think so.” His body was hard against mine. His breath was hot on my face. He pressed my legs apart and slid between them. I could feel his hardness resting against my wet throbbing cunt. He slid himself inside me filling me.

He started to thrust in a steady rhythm. I was helpless beneath him but I didn’t care. All I cared about was the feel of him, the raw lust on his face that matched the way I felt inside. The room filled with my cries of pleasure and his heavy breathing. My breasts were pressed against his hard chest and his hips ground against mine. 

I watched his face change as he reached his climax. This was the part I always love the best, the look of pure pleasure on their face, the sounds they make, the feeling of their cock pulsing as it empties. My head spun a little with the sensation of power I had to give such pleasure. He collapsed beside me on the bed panting with exertion. We lay smiling at each other for a few moments.

“That was an awesome birthday present. I have only one wish now.” He grinned at me.

“What is that?” I asked a little shiver of anticipation went through me.

He leaned down and kissed my nipple, “I want to touch you all over.” He trailed kisses across my breast to the other nipple. 

I gave a little shudder of pleasure, “I think we can arrange that.”

Sex on the Beach

Photo by Davide Sibilio on Unsplash

There is something about the beach at night. Listening to the sound of the waves crashing onto the beach while not really being able to see them clearly makes you feel as if you are lost in a wilderness and there is no one else in the world. Ellie felt exactly that way as she sat on the picnic blanket with Jackson between the dunes. For a short time she could just exist without thinking about life at home or even bustling Surfer’s Paradise just over the dunes behind them. 

Jackson opened the warm paper package of chips and fished a vodka cruiser from the small esky he had brought. 

“Oh, guava, my favourite!” She exclaimed as she twisted the top. “You really thought of everything.” 

They sat sipping their drinks and eating hot chips from the paper between them. 

“I love the beach at night,” Jackson mused between sips of his drink. 

Ellie nodded in agreement, “There is something about it definitely,” 

“The only thing that makes it better is rain.” 

“Really?” Ellie wasn’t sure how she felt about being out in the rain on the beach at night.

“Sure,” Jackson enthused. “It is so wild and free. Kind of romantic.”

As if on cue a light sprinkle of rain began to fall on them. Instinctively Ellie shivered and huddled against Jackson. 

“It is summer in Queensland,” he chided her. “It is not even the slightest bit cold.”

“It isn’t cold,” she replied, “I just don’t like getting wet.” Ellie continued to huddle against him as water ran out of her hair and dripped down on to the already wet bodice of her dress. Jackson looked down at her with a sly smile playing around his lips. He slipped his hands between her legs, sliding upwards to the hem of her dress,

“Really?” His eyebrow arched.

Ellie’s legs fell open automatically and she sighed in anticipation as his hand slid further upwards. The swell of her chest pushed her breasts against the wet fabric. Jackson was mesmerised by the perfect roundness of her breasts pushing her nipples against the fabric. His cock hardened and his fingers dipped into Ellies warm wet cunt. 

“It seems pretty wet there,” Jackson slid his finger into her opening, watching her eyes intently. “Are you telling me you don’t like that?” 

Ellie sighed in pleasure and lifted her face up to kiss him. Their bodies pressed together as the rain pattered down on them. In the distance the surf crashed onto the beach. At this moment it seemed like they were the only people in the world. His fingers continued to slip in and out of her wet opening. Her chest heaved as her arousal increased. She made little moaning sounds in time with his fingers dipping inside her. Jackson knew all her triggers and he played her like a master, drawing a small orgasm. She cuddled against him, oblivious to the world around them breathing heavily. The rain continued to patter down on them but neither of them noticed.

With great care he laid her down on the blanket. He pushed her dress up and slid her panties down over her knees. Drunk on the warmth of her orgasm she was compliant, raising her hips to help him. Jason unzipped his pants to release his cock and then positioned himself between her willing legs. He rested himself against her wet opening looking intently into her eyes. Rain dripped from his forehead on to hers. Her eyes bored into his. 

“Are you going to fuck me?” She asked.

“Would you like me to?” He grinned moving himself so that his cock pressed against her opening, teasing. 

She wriggled under him but the weight of his body kept her from pressing him into her. She sighed, showing a tiny amount of frustration. He allowed himself to dip the very tip of his cock into her. 

“You want this?” He asked. It took all of his control not to plunge into her wet opening. 

“You know I do,” Ellie tilted her hips as much as she could. 

Jackson held back for a few more moments before he slid himself into her slowly watching the pleasure on her face as he filled her. She wrapped her legs around his hips pressing him deeper into her. When he was fully inside her he paused for a moment enjoying the feeling of her wrapped fully around him with both her legs and her cunt. 

But he could hold back no longer. With strong powerful thrusts he fucked her hard, Her breasts jiggled under the wet fabric of her dress. Every thrust was met with a moan of pleasure. Jackson could feel the wetness of Ellie’s cunt coating his balls. The sound of her voice told him she was matching his excitement with his own. At the base of his cock he could feel the familiar pressure. He knew he couldn’t hold it back. He worried that she wouldn’t be ready.

Then the wave crashed over them. He was lost in the heat of his orgasm but he heard her own cries of pleasure. He felt her cunt contracting around his cock as he emptied himself into her. They kissed long and deep, both of them trying to hold on to the intensity of the moment. As they lay on the blanket cuddling together the rain eased to a few wet drips. Slowly they became aware of the sounds around them. The crashing of the beach and the faint noises of Surfers Paradise behind them. A breeze caressed them sending a wave of goosebumps over Ellie. She shivered and sat up.

“I think it is time to go,” 

They gathered up their empty drinks and the soggy paper surrounding the cold uneaten chips to make their way back to their car. Jackson stowed the esky and passed a dry towel to Ellie. 

“You really did think of everything!” She exclaimed, rubbing herself vigorously. 

Jackson responded with a cheeky grin, “Of course! That is why you love me!”