To see what the front of my new top looks like …
Click the image below
To see our HNT Galleries click here or the “Galleries” link at the bottom of the page.
To see what the front of my new top looks like …
Click the image below
To see our HNT Galleries click here or the “Galleries” link at the bottom of the page.
I hoped the doors were sound proofed, Peter was now moaning quite loudly as I continued my oral attack on his cock. “Do you like this too Suze?”, came Mark’s voice from between my legs. “Yes”, I responded no need to think about it. I raised my hips from the chair as he hit my sweet spot once again and I came with a shudder and a throaty groan reverberated on Peter’s cock.
“Oh My God Suze!” exclaimed Peter as his whole body started to quiver and jerk. His hands were tight in my hair now, he was pulling on the two handfuls of hair in his grip. He was hurting me but I liked it. Head tilted upwards and back arched as he began to thrust quite violently in to my mouth. Taking hold of his hands I eased them off a little. His cock was now rapidly pistoning in and out of my vacuum sealed lips.
He was whining in an almost child like way, face contorted, perspiration forming small beads on his forehead. Mark was watching with the same anticipation I had. We both knew Peter was about to blow his wad. He continued to roll my clit as I sucked hard on Peter. “Jesus!”, he shouted withdrawing his hands from my hair, grabbing hold of his erection and easing it from between my lips.
Peter began to slowly wank the very tip of his cock, hardly any movement of his hand was required. I opened my mouth ready to receive his hot seed. He was gently brushing his frenulum now. We both watched with eager interest. “Fuck!”. The first round of cum hit my top lip, that was followed by a second better aimed shot, straight on to my tongue. He continued to work his dick, this time cum splattered my shirt collar.
I reached my left arm around his bare buttocks and guided him back to my mouth. I wanted to lick him clean. To taste more of him. I gently ran my tongue over the tip of his glans and he twitched with the ultra sensitivity he was now feeling. I took him in my right hand and ran my tongue down his length. I sucked one of his balls in to my mouth, then the other and rolled them around on my tongue. He tasted good, warm, slightly salty and a little musky.
Now cleaned up, I released his balls and kissed his deflating phallus. I looked up at him and with a smile he responded “Suze, that was great I’m totally spent”. I smiled back and returned my gaze to Mark who had been so patiently waiting. He stood up before me and I reached up and began to undo the shiny silver buckle on his belt. I unhooked the button on his waistband and pulled down his zipper, the only thing keeping his trousers in place. They fell to his feet and he stepped out of them.
He was wearing a very kinky black cotton thong which was having great difficulty containing his swollen member. The sides of his thong were pulling away from his legs as the front bulged outward. He reached down and pulled off each shoe in turn, holding his passionate animalistic gaze on me. The air was heavy with the scent of sex…my sex..Peter’s sex and now Mark needed his release.
Peter was now sitting on the edge of the table with his trousers still around his ankles, looking a little stoned. Still reeling from his orgasm. Oblivious to Mark and myself.
I stood before Mark and reached up under the black cotton where it raised from Mark’s groin and took a hold of his hard shaft. He was throbbing in my hand and clearly ready to fuck…but not yet. I eased him out under the elasticated edge. He was hot and very, very hard. The veins which ran the length of his cock were prominent and coursing with his desire. I reached up to his nipple with my other hand and rolled his nipple bar between my fingers. His nipples were now as firm as mine. I let go, concentrating on his hardon.
With a firm grip I encircled his cock and began to stroke him. “Suze, I’m close”, he cried out at the same time reaching under my skirt and in to my panties once again. “Take them off”, I demanded. He eased a finger under each side of my panties and slid them down over my hips, letting them fall to the floor, creating a trail of my own cum down my inner left thigh as they descended.
I spat on the tip of his cock, he was becoming a little dry, the skin not pushing back as smoothly as it was a moment ago. Mark took a hold of my hand and guided me towards the table. I rested both of my palms of the cool wood of the table top. Mark moved in behind me and roughly hoisted up my skirt into a roll of fabric around my waist. The cool air hit my ass cheeks and exposed pussy, I closed my eyes taking in the moment. When I opened them Peter was standing at the other side of the table, wearing just his shirt which was still buttoned.
Mark placed his hand on my back pushing me downwards on to the table. Peter climbed on to the table and laid himself down with his head directly under my tits. Mark pushed my legs further apart with his hands forcing me forward over Peter. He hooked his finger into my bra between the cups and raised it up over my breasts.
He sucked my right nipple in to his mouth and my left breast rested in the curve of his neck, my nipple sticking in to his glottis. His mouth was hot and his tongue played my erect nipple, rolling it round and flicking it with his tongue.
Mark came up behind me, pushing his hard cock between my cheeks. “Ahh, that’s my ass”! I exclaimed as he began to part my tight anus with the tip of his cock. He made adjustment and began to push his length inside me. His cock was larger than I was used to, the skin around my opening was stretching to accommodate his girth.
He liked the tightness of my pussy as he pushed in. “Uhm, you are a tight girl aren’t you?…I’m going to stretch this cunt of yours and fill it with my cum”. “Is that what you want?”. “Yes, fuck me”, I demanded. I could feel his groin against my ass as he hit my cervix. “God, you’re big!”
Peter let go his grip on my nipples and slid further up the table under me. His groin was now level with my mouth and I could smell his spent seed. The musky smell filling my nostrils. Mark was now steadily fucking me from behind and I could feel my orgasm building as I took Peter once more in to my mouth.
Mark began to grunt like he was possessed, far from turning me off this made me want him more. I love to hear a guy enjoying himself, not feeling repressed but allowing himself to vocalise his euphoria. Peter was still flaccid, in recovery from his previous ejaculation but there was a small ember which demanded to be fanned.
He was growing in my mouth and with every suck, lick and downward bob he grew harder. No need for hands now as he sustained his erection in my mouth. Mark was now fucking me so hard that I had to cry out as he again bottomed out on my cervix. This encouraged Peter to buck and begin fucking my mouth again.
I felt two hands grab my hips and pull them towards Mark as he fucked me like a dog, knees bent power ramming me. My juices were no longer contained within me and began to descend down my inner thighs. Sex filled the air with that heady unmistakeable scent, adding to the moment. This orgy was bending my mind, I had never been a part of anything like this before. It felt like I had indulged in an illegal substance, my head was reeling with the pleasure of it all.
Peter pulled from under me and raised up to his knees. His cock bobbing in front of my eyes. Mark was now taking erratic short strokes in to me as he rubbed his frenulum on my opening. He had to be close. With a couple more short thrusts he shouted “fuck!” and pulled his cock out from between my swollen lips. I felt small spatters of liquid on my lower back and buttocks as he came over me.
Mark collapsed against the table next to me. His face was flushed and moistened by his exertion. His cock was now semi hard, hanging down, fully sated. I looked down between my legs to the floor noticing a drop of Marks cum had landed on the carpet. Peter moved to the edge of the table and climbed to the floor. “Do you want more Suze?”, he whispered in my right ear as he made his way behind me. I looked over my right shoulder and gave him one of my best “come on” smiles. He spun me round by my hips and pushed me back towards the table.
Mark was now recovering on the chair to the side of me. Panting hot and sweaty with his eyes closed. Peter cupped my buttocks and lifted me on to the table behind me. He parted my legs and hooked an arm under the back of each knee. This tilted my pelvis towards his waiting cock.
He moved in closer. I reached my right hand between my legs, taking hold of his hard prick and guiding it in to my waiting pussy. My cunt was still oozing with my own cum and I scraped some of it up with my fingers and ran them over Peter’s throbbing helmet. I guided him inside me as Peter pulled my knees under his armpits. He began to take long strokes in and out of my sopping hole. Each movement soliciting a slapping splashing sound as my cunt juice lubricated us both.
The table was hard against my back, I placed my hands under my lower spine to ease the rubbing as my shirt and skirt were above my waist. Peter fucked like a teenager, for his age he had incredible stamina. Thrusting, pounding, filling my dripping pussy with his erect tissue. I came almost silently this time, all resistance drained from me, as I succumbed to the trembling of my orgasm. He kept on fucking as I slid on the tabletop in rhythm with his groin.
“Oh Suze!”, he exclaimed pushing me fully on to the table top and lowering my legs. He withdrew from me and began to stroke himself. His cock was purple and the head was visibly under tension from the increased blood flow. He moved closer to me, stroking rhythmically. I rose up onto my elbows and watched with anticipation as he approached.
The first spurt fell upon my exposed left breast, swiftly followed by my right, then my neck. This man could come for England, he just kept firing off over me. My body was being spattered with the thick semi translucent fluid.
Beep, beep, beep…came the noise. What the hell was it? I opened my eyes and was met by the sun streaming in through the gap in the curtains. It was daylight. “Alex turn off the alarm”. I called.
Now you see where being told you are invited to attend an interview next week gets you. 🙂
I was there as instructed at 10am on the dot. More than a little nervous, it’s been so long since I was in this position. Trying to look casual and relaxed I picked up one of the dog-eared magazines from the beech effect table in front of me. My nervous disposition betrayed by my constant crossing and uncrossing of legs.
The woman behind reception glanced over to me and gave me a warming smile. I suppose she had picked up on my fidgeting trying to calm me with her kind gesture. This was silly, I have been in this situation many times in my life, why should I be so scared this time?
Why is it that they always keep you waiting, when they know you have arrived? The dutiful receptionist had buzzed them to let them know about 10 minutes ago. I crossed my right leg over my left once more and my foot began to tremble. I put it to the floor and carefully tucked my leg behind the left one. There…that stopped it.
As I glanced over the top of my magazine I noticed two guys stood talking in the corridor directly behind the door from reception. They were clearly visible through the small glass pane just above the handle. Were they talking about me? Were these the people I had come to see? My hands became clammy, my fingers sticking to the page. I closed the magazine and placed it on my lap. Damn, the ink had transferred to my sticky fingers. I rubbed my hands together in the hope that the ink would disperse. It worked.
The two men were now looking through the glass and talking. I caught the dark haired one’s eye and he nodded in confirmation, throwing in a smile for good measure. The door began to open as he pushed on it. I placed the magazine back on the table and straightened my skirt. This was it, I’m sure he had come for me. His colleague disappeared through the door immediately opposite reception.
“Hi, I’m Mark”, the man announced as he approached me with his hand outstretched. “You must be Suze?”, he said with a slight inflection. “Yes”, I replied in a rather shaky voice”. “Follow me”, he said as he turned and headed back towards the door he came in through. The woman on reception smiled and I managed to catch her name badge. She was “Gayle…Gayle Godwin”. “Thanks Gayle”, I offered as I walked through the door to my destiny…
…He opened the door and there in front of me were two desks end to end, with one chair directly in front of me and the other two facing towards me. I entered the room. One of the chairs was already occupied by the mousy haired guy I had seen only moments ago. He stood up as I approached the table and reached out to shake my hand. I think he could have been nervous too, his hand was warm and clammy.
The room was blue and quiet antiseptic in appearance with very little in the way of furnishing and there was a slightly fusty, unused smell about it. The table and chairs were on the expensive side of office furnishings, sturdy and well made with padded seats instead of the pre-formed plastic ones which hurt your buttocks after a while.
Mark pointed to my chair and asked me to take a seat as he and the other guy sat back down at the other side of the tables. There were three glasses and a pitcher of water on the desk in front of me and the guys on the other side had notebooks and pens laid out before them. I placed my brief case down on the floor against the table leg.
“Before we begin, can I offer you a glass of water?”, asked Mark. I willingly accepted, at times like these my throat always dries up and I go a little horse, so a glass of water was quite welcome. He passed the glass to me and I took a small lady like sip from it and placed it down with my right hand.
“This is Peter, he is the head of the department and is sitting in to ask a few questions if that is alright?”, enquired Mark. “That’s fine, no problem at all”, I replied. Mark began to shuffle his A4 sheets and I took a look around. There was a wall mounted projector and television at the far side of the room. Over in the far corner was a cabinet with a telephone, coffee machine and cups upon it. I assumed this was the media room.
I shuffled on my chair and pulled my skirt down towards my knees. I hadn’t realised I did this when I was nervous. The two guys were sat with their backs to the window, the vertical blinds were closed to keep the sunlight and prying eyes out. The ceiling mounted spotlights were not very powerful and the room was quite dimly light to say we were having an interview.
“Make yourself comfortable”, suggested Peter as he swung on his tie loosening the knot. He then removed it from his neck, rolled it round his hand. He placed it on the table to his left. “Good idea”, Mark said as he proceeded to do the same.
I must admit this unnerved me slightly, in the past interviews have been very formal and not at all relaxed. But hey, maybe they have a different kind of work ethic at this company. I thought no more about it. I crossed my left leg over my right and cleared my throat with a small cough.
“Can I suggest you remove your jacket it’s a little hot in here today the air con seems to have gone mad” prompted Mark as they both did the same. They were like book ends, both wearing white starched shirts and suits. I complied and removed my jacket, placing it over the back of my chair.
“Now I see from your resume that you have been in this industry for the past 10 years”, began Mark standing up and stepping away from his seat. He flipped over the first page of my CV and began to walk around the desk to the left of me finally coming to a standstill behind my chair. He rested his hand upon my right shoulder and assured me that I should not be nervous the meeting was an informal one.
I took a deep breath and his hand rose and fell with the movement of my shoulders. I felt slightly uncomfortable him being behind me with his hand on my shoulder, I uncrossed my leg and adjusted my seating position. He continued to read through the pages of my CV, giving the odd “Uhm” and “I see” as he read on. I looked across the table, Peter was reading through my resume with keen interest too.
Mark bent down and whispered in my right ear, “What made you apply for this particular position?” I could feel his hot breath against my ear and the deep intake of breath which followed. “This position would be a step up the ladder for me and I felt ready for the challenge”, I replied staring forward at Peter. Peter nodded in agreement as Mark bent towards my ear again, “I see”. His hand began to massage my shoulder, he must have felt my muscles tense against his fingers as he worked them. “Relax, no need to be tense”, he whispered in to my ear again.
I felt unsure of the situation and how I should react to it. My first instinct was to rebuff his attentions but my inner self told me to sit back and enjoy the attention, after all this guy was quite handsome and sexy too. But how could I think like this, I was in an interview for a desk job for heavens sake?
He continued to massage and I began to respond, only he didn’t know it. He was unaware that my crotch was becoming moist as my lips began to swell with the increased blood flow. They were pulsing…hot, as my arousal increased.
“This all looks in order”, he said as he stepped in to my peripheral vision. His shirt was now fully unbuttoned down to the waistband of his trousers and his downy chest was clearly visible. He had a bit of a tummy but nothing a few situps wouldn’t sort out. I coughed in to my hand in a coy “I’m not sure what to do” way.
He noticed me staring at his left nipple, it was pierced with a small bar. Why did I not see that through his shirt earlier? He placed the papers down on the table and knelt down next to me. As he did so I noticed that Peter was no longer sitting opposite me.
I heard the click as the lock made its way home on the door. Peter was making sure that we were not disturbed.
Mark’s hand was now on my right shin, I jumped a little as he began to move up my leg. I bit my lip as I looked down at Mark who was staring up at me waiting for approval. I smiled. He moved towards my face, mouth opening. He placed his lips to mine and I momentarily resisted his tongue as he pushed it between my lips. This felt so wrong but at the same time I couldn’t resist his attentions. Mark’s hand was now under my skirt heading for my stocking clad thighs and ultimately my moist panties. I shuffled on my chair parting my legs to receive him. Our tongues wrestled and our lips embraced as he took me under his spell.
I could sense Peter’s body heat to my left side and I recognised the sound of a zipper being unfastened in my left ear. Mark could kiss. He tussled and probed with his tongue whilst pushing his body between my open legs and wrapping his left arm around me.
He parted from my lips, looked in to my eyes piercing my soul with his wanton look. Then he began to unbutton my crisp red blouse, a small tug released it from my skirt. I let him, almost powerless to resist. It felt like my whole body had lost the ability to resist him. My chest heaving up and down with rapid breaths of anticipation. I glanced to the left, Peter had his flies undone and was working his hand up and down his stiffening shaft. Mesmerised I watched him wanking as Mark scooped up my breast and set if free from my red lace bra.
Warm lips wrapped around my erect nipple and I began to tingle as his tongue played with it. Peter was pulsing with blood, the tip of his cock was now almost purple as he slowly but rhythmically pulled his foreskin to and fro over the tip of his glans. I looked up, he was watching Mark sucking on my engorged nipple. “Ouch!”, I exclaimed. “Is that good Suze?”, enquired Mark grazing his teeth over my hard nipple. “Yes”, I sighed.
Mark’s hand was now on my wet crotch, pushing the fabric up between my lips with his fingers. Gently, he rubbed up and down my swollen slit. It was divine, my clit was so sensitive to his touch now. I became aware of my rapid breaths, I could not exercise any control over my respiration. My excitement was too overpowering now.
I looked to the side, Peter was still tugging at his dick and a small cloudy bead of pre cum was clearly visible at the end of his erection. I leaned over to the left just enough to be able to retrieve it with my tongue as he continued to bring himself closer to ejaculation. He tasted good and I found myself wanting, no needing to take his hardness in to my mouth.
He edged closer to me with the trousers around his ankles restricting his steps. I opened my mouth in response. I didn’t need to ask, he inserted his cock between my eager lips. I gently sucked the tip of his penis. Mark was now working my pussy, running his fingers between my soggy panties and my pussy. My clit was so sensitive to touch, released from it’s fleshy hood. I sat further back in my seat, giving him unrestricted access to my cunt.
I pushed down on Peter’s erection sliding his foreskin back with my lips as I went. He placed his hands in my hair as I took him to the back of my throat. Shit I nearly gagged as my nose buried in to his trimmed pubic hair. He smelled freshly washed and slightly lemony. I eased off him and straightened my throat in preparation to take his whole length this time. I could taste the blood coursing through his veins as my tongue ran over his taught foreskin. Mark began to push his fingers inside my hot swollen and very hungry pussy.
That was better. I slowly moved up and down Peter’s erection caressing the underside of his hardon with my tongue. I began to increase speed and tongue tension as I fucked him with my mouth. More pre cum, I could taste it at the back of my throat when he bottomed out. His hands grasped my hair with more urgency as he arched his back.
I bobbed my head up and down on his throbbing dick as Mark’s fingers pushed deeper and faster inside me. He hit my g-spot and I momentarily released my grip around Peter giving voice to a moan of decadent pleasure. This interview was turning in to a delightful orgy.
To be concluded …
Judith swung her legs out of the taxi, tight, red leather skirt restricting her movements. She stood on the damp curb, adjusting her attire as the car drove off into the rain soaked night. A red painted door beckoned at the top of a flight of stone steps. She knocked twice, and waited. The door was opened by Kimberley. “Hello Kim” said Judith, trembling slightly, both afraid and excited. She paused on the threshold, the next step was a step into the unknown.
“Come in, you’ll catch your death.” Kim almost dragged her through the door.
In the kitchen they chatted over a coffee. Judith admiring the shining hob and newly installed units. It made her own aging excuse for a kitchen look like what it was, a hovel.
“Are you sure you’re OK with this?” Asked Kim. “I mean it’s a lot to ask and I don’t want you to feel obliged to go along with this just because of how long we’ve been friends.”
“I’m always up for a new experience. ” She smiled uncertainly. “And I can’t think of anyone who I’d like to try it with more than you. And Simon.”
Kim reached across the kitchen table and held Judith’s hand. “Thank you”. Judith looked into Kim’s brown eyes and excitement began to overtake her trepidation over what was about to unfold.
They’d been friends all their lives, born in the same street. Same school, same adolescent parties, sometimes the same boyfriends. But not Simon. He’d come from the other end of town. One of the districts were people didn’t find it difficult to meet the rent every week. From the sort of family where Christmas meant pleasant get-togethers, full larders and quality wines, not a bowl of nuts, cheap beer and recriminations.
“Starting without me?” Simon entered the room, drying his hair. Kim withdrew her hand, almost guiltily, making Judith feel slightly uncomfortable for Kim and a little cheated that the intimate moment between them had been interrupted.
Simon kissed Kim on the top of the head, collected his coffee and returned upstairs to change. Kim opened a bottle of wine which they shared while waiting for Simon.
“I never had you down as being so adventurous.” Said Judith.
“It was Simon’s idea. And I’d do anything for him.” Replied Kim, though slightly unconvincingly.
Judith did her best not to look puzzled by the last statement. She’d never doubted that they were a loving couple, that’s why she’d agreed to her friend’s request. But there was an edge to Kim’s voice with an uncomfortable subtext.
Or maybe it was just the wine. Another glass was needed, or two.
By the time Simon returned they were both giggling, doubts forgotten, inhibitions removed. He poured himself a glass of wine, picked up a fresh bottle. “Are you coming upstairs?”, the question was directed at Judith.
Both women stood and followed him, Judith first, then Kim, upstairs to the softly lit bedroom.
“You’re eager!” observed Judith. Simon placed the bottle and glass on the bedside table. “I’ve been looking forward to this.”
“I thought you’d want to relax a little first.” Said Judith.
“I’m quite relaxed enough now.” He grinned at her, bulge in his jeans obvious.
Both women approached him. The three of them slipping their arms around each other in an animated, amorous trefoil. They attempted a three-way kiss which ended in confusion and tongues wriggling across cheeks. Instead they opted for alternating partners, first each woman in turn grappling with Simon, then the Judith and Kim in the final round or an oral tag match.
They pushed him back onto the bed and removed his clothes, leaving his bulging posing pouch until last. It was slid down his legs to release a dribbling hard cock.
Judith and Kim then “lezzed it up” for Simon while he slowly wanked himself on the bed, pre-cum dribbling onto his stomach. They undressed each other and became completely engrossed in the process. Intensely aroused by the feeling of another female’s hands removing their clothes. Simon ceased to matter to Kim who was lost in Judith’s blue-green eyes.
As Kim slid Judith’s leather skirt over her hips and knelt in front of her she felt the urge to bury her face in Judith’s crotch the red satin of her panties and the smell of her arousal called to her. But this was Simon’s night.
Eventually, after much touching and slow disrobing they stood in front of Simon, only stockings and suspenders not cast onto the floor.
The threesome squirmed and writhed on the bed, Judith and Kim sharing his erection. They both played their parts, sucking, licking, stroking Simon. They both enjoyed it, but their hands seemed to linger more on each other, especially as Simons attention turned away from his wife to Judith.
Kim began to feel like a bystander, a voyeur, and that was not what she had intended. Soon she was relegated to stroking Judith’s hair and kissing her as Simon fucked her deeply on their bed. He came with a satisfaction that Kim remembered from their wedding night.
Simon quickly dozed off, leaving Judith toying with Kim’s long brown hair. “Are you OK?” asked Judith, seeing the tears welling in Kim’s eyes. Kim swallowed back a sob and nodded her head less than truthfully. They both slid off the bed and put on a couple of Kim’s towelling robes from the walk-in closet.
In the kitchen they made their way down another bottle of wine without exchanging a word. They held hands across the kitchen table, Judith gently stroking the back of Kim’s hand with her thumb.
Eventually Kim spoke, “Not what you expected?”
“Well it wasn’t what I expected either. I thought it was about three of us.”
“Me too.” Said Kim, desperation in her voice.
“I really enjoyed when we …” started Judith.
“… So did I. I’ve never felt like that about Simon. About any man.”
Judith drew Kim’s hand to her lips and kissed it tenderly. They leant across the table and kissed, a full and loving kiss, no tongues just an exchange of tenderness. Kim’s eyes were drawn to Judith’s breasts, partially revealed as she leant forward. Her hand reach to touch them, but the table meant her hand could not explore.
They both stood, robes opening to reveal two cleavages, two neatly trimmed pudendas. Now they could enjoy the sensation of each other, the touch, the smell, the gentle pressure of flesh on flesh. They kissed for what seemed like an eternity, unhurried, fanning their passion for each other slowly, the flame more intense because of it.
Judith slid a hand down to Kim’s crotch and delved between her moist, pouting lips, stroking Kim as she often did herself. She pushed Kim against the units for support, Kim’s legs began to tremble. Gentle wailing moans escaped from Kim’s lips as she began to feel the first orgasm approach.
The golden glowing torrent of bliss melted her. It mingled with the knowledge that Judith shared her desires and expressed them with tenderness and passion. When it took hold the climax shook her every fibre. Judith slipped two fingers inside Kim, feeling her heat. She slid the fingers in and out, becoming drenched in Kim’s passion.
Judith bit her lip with concentration, watching Kim, gauging her responses to the firm fucking her fingers were administering. Judith’s crotch burned with the need for satisfaction, but this was Kim’s time. Her fingers sloshed in Kim’s pussy, hand almost dripping with glistening juices when Kim came again, arms wrapped around Judith for support.
They slept on the sofa that night, in each other’s arms.
If you want me up against the wall …
Click the image below
To see our HNT Galleries click here or the “Galleries” link at the bottom of the page.
Ever get that feeling that youve spent a lot of time working on something, but you can’t see anything for it?
Well this site has been like that for the last few days for me. I’ve jiggled about with our blogroll, I hope you like the new look. I’ve also been doing a bit of general housekeeping, stuff that has needed doing for, well too long.
So the end result of that is that I have a number of posts in my head that need to be committed to paper, OK wordprocessor documents.
And then there’s something special coming up, hopefully early next week. Something we’ve never done before … no, that’s all you’re getting. You’ll have to wait and see.
I just knew when I posted the first part of this the other day I would remember some more alcohol related episodes in my past. So here I go again, if you missed the first one of these just scroll down the page to Friday the 17th November.
As a child I was raised to respect alcohol by my liberal minded parents. We always drank wine with our Sunday lunch and celebrated special occasions with alcohol. Don’t get me wrong they did not let me partake too much but I came very close on many occasion when they weren’t watching the bottle. 😀
One such event happened on New Years Eve when I was about eleven or twelve years old. My father was away I recall, either for work of family reasons, not sure which. But both my mother and I were in the house on our own on this particular eve.
The clock approached the hour of midnight and I was trying hard not to fall asleep whilst laying on the sofa watching the revelry and partying taking place on television as was the tradition. There has always been a Hogmanay show on television for as long as I remember. The earliest ones were hosted by Andy Williams I think. Is he still alive?
Anyway. The clock struck twelve and everyone on the television raised their glasses to us the viewing public and wished a “Happy New Year”. Most of the people on the show must have been well stewed by the time 12 o clock came round as the show usually started about 10 o clock and probably continued well in to the “wee hours”. 😉
My mother disappeared off in to the kitchen and returned just as the last chime rang out from Big Ben. She was clutching the largest bottle of Champagne I had ever seen. It looked like we were having the whole neighbourhood round for a celebratory drink. “Your dad left us this to bring in the New Year”, she smiled at me. “Wow”, I replied in a mesmerised voice. It was the largest bottle of Champagne I had ever seen. Did I tell you that already? Lol.
She popped the cork which hit the ceiling and made a lovely dint which we all pointed at for the next few months reminiscing (you will find out why in a moment, be patient!) until the day dad relented to mum’s demand, filling the dent and repainting the ceiling. There are only so many times you can point up at the ceiling and make fun of Suze…
Got you all wondering why now, haven’t I?…
…Ok, I give in. Whilst mum was pouring the first glass the telephone rang. It was my father calling to wish us both a Happy New Year. “Suze, come and wish your dad a Happy New Year”, mum called out from the phone. I went to the telephone and wished him rather begrudgingly as I recall, Happy New Year, through gritted teeth. I was both angry and upset that he couldn’t be with us on this of all evenings.
I blew a kiss to him down the receiver and left my mother talking to him. Meanwhile there was some Champagne waiting for me in the lounge. The first glass went down a little slow, the bubbles and the taste I guess. One has to acquire a taste for the good stuff. 😀 This meant I had to pour another just to see if the taste was beginning to grown on me. It did and this prompted me to pour another and another and…
You can guess the rest. My mother returned from her phone call and I was as pissed as a fart. I think she guessed I was drunk quite quickly, as I was dancing to bagpipe music. Not my normal choice of music to get down to. “Have you been drinking this while I have been gone?”, she asked as she picked up the bottle to check out just how many times I had celebrated on my own.
I’m not sure how much I had but it felt great. I had boundless energy and felt like I was walking on clouds. My dancing eventually stopped and things began to slow down after mum took the bottle away from me. Climbing the stairs to bed was hilarious I remember to this day laughing like an idiot all the way up and in to bed. Not so the next morning. I had a stonking great headache and stayed in bed until I felt better. Mid afternoon I think.
There are more tales to tell do you want to hear them? I may have to make this in to a mini series. 😉
Friday, 07 July 1944, Arnold MO, USA
Harry finished checking the last firing pin and placed it carefully in its transport crate, with eleven others. He nailed the lid shut. The final nail, ¼” longer than the others, came to rest against the end of the last firing pin. The pin bent, minutely.
Saturday, 02 September 1944, “The White Horse” Pub, Norfolk, England
Lieutenant Cavallo and Sergeant Archer scanned the pub for friendly faces. “What’s her name?”, asked Cavallo nodding towards a petite dark haired girl in WRAF uniform across the bar.
“Gillian, I think. Why d’you ask?”
“She’s kinda cute.”
“Oh, you’re after a little R & R again. Cavallo, the captain’s gonna have your ass if he thinks you’re causing moral problems again.”
“I never heard any of the girls complain.”
“Yes but their wing commander did.”
Sunday, 03 September 1944
Lieutenant Cavallo clambered into the co-pilot’s seat ready for pre-flight checks. The leather of his flying jacket began to warm slightly in the summer sunlight streaming through the cockpit window, giving off an aroma both familiar and now inextricably bound up in his mind with air combat.
He took a moment to look outside at the airfield, sixteen other aircraft stood beside this one, a brand new B17, fresh from Seattle. He hated new aircraft, glitches to iron out, and a whole new personality to learn. Just like a new woman he smiled to himself. And then there was what to call her.
And on top of that a daylight raid against retreating German troops. One trip to hell, he just hoped it was a return ticket.
Thirty minutes later the B17’s tyres left the runway on it’s way to France.
Five hours after that the aircraft taxied to a halt, chin turret blackened by flack but otherwise intact. The crew breathed a collective sigh of relief and headed for the White Horse.
“Gillian, isn’t it?”, asked Cavallo, leaning in a little closer to the object of his desires.
“Yes, and what is your name Lieutenant?”, though she already knew.
“Cavallo, Carlos Cavallo. Say, would you like a drink?”
“Thought you’d never ask.”, replied Gillian, “I know what you do now, what did you do before the war?”
“I was training to be a lawyer. And you?”
“I worked in London, as a dancer.”
“That would explain your, er, well you look so …”, the normally unflappably confident New Yorker found himself tongue-tied and a little embarrassed. He actually felt something for this girl, not just the usual stirrings. To cover his discomfort he asked,” … West End?”
“Almost, the Windmill”, Gillian waited for the usual reaction.
“Oh that type of dancer”, said Cavallo knowingly.
“No, not that kind of dancer. Fully clothed. For your information the topless girls aren’t allowed to move. You’ve obviously never been”, she replied with a certain satisfaction.
“It’s on my to-do list”, said Cavallo.
“Anything else on your to-do list?”, she asked, wrinkling her nose as she smiled, doing her best to look innocent. And failing.
Several hours later the landlord of the White Horse had to almost physically throw the couple out. His loud clearing of glasses and meaningful coughs worked on everyone but Cavallo and Gillian, who seemed enraptured by each other’s life stories. To make things worse they had become so caught up in each other they stopped drinking an hour before last orders.
They walked back to the base, hand in hand and kissed 100yds from the MPs guarding the gate. Their kisses told each other they wanted more. Cavallo’s hand wandered to her pert bottom, but was quickly moved back to Gillian’s waist. “When will I see you again?”, she asked. “Three days, same time, in the White Horse? Gi…”, he replied. “It’s a date. But stop calling me that.”
They re-entered the airfield a couple of minutes apart.
Wednesday 06 September 1944
Gillian heard the wing take off from her barracks. She could not watch the planes leave. She’d seen too many aircrew take off never to return and now that one of those men had made a connection with her she dreaded what today might bring.
Cavallo felt rather than heard the first AA round burst next to the tail of the B17. The slight vibration in the stick told him he’d lost a piece of the tail. The pilot, Tanner, barked at the gunners to watch out for the fighters which he knew would soon be on them.
A few minutes later the plane’s machine guns started to chatter as two ME109es took up station behind them.
“Fire in engine 1, shut it do…”, began Tanner. Cavallo looked across to see Tanner clutching at his arm. “I’m OK.”
But a gurgling scream over the intercom from one of the waist gunners told him that he wasn’t. Cavallo left the plane in Tanner’s hands and ran down the narrow catwalk in the bomb bay to the waist gunners. The gunner was dead, slumped at against a rib in the airframe. Shit, he couldn’t even remember the guy’s name, he’d only joined the crew on the last mission. Looking out of the gun port Cavallo saw an enemy fighter streaking towards him. Grabbing the .50 calibre gun and swinging it round on its mountings, Cavallo fired.
The firing pin in the gun jammed. Cavallo yanked at the cocking lever to eject the shell. The extractor slammed the cartridge into the breach. The shell exploded. Cavallo felt a searing pain in the side of his head and then felt no more.
Gillian was already making her way to “The White Horse” when she heard the Cyclone engines in the distance, she began to shake uncontrollably. She ordered a double G & T on her arrival and sat at “their” table waiting for Cavallo to walk through the door.
Minutes passed, then hours. Slowly the aircrews rolled through the doors. Each new face eliciting increasingly intense and agitated stares from Gillian. Finally a face she knew, “Sergeant, any news of Cavallo?”. “They took some damage going in, had to dump their bomb load over the North Sea but they should have landed about now.
Gillian ran out of the pub and back to the base. She sped past the bemused MPs at the gate and straight towards the Cavallo’s B17, it’s tattered tail silhouetted against the moon.
“Over here.” It was Cavallo, in the shadow of the WRAF barracks. Gillian ran into his arms.
They kissed with a passion that banished the war from their thoughts. It made the angst Gillian felt disappear and made her think of only one thing. Having him.
He led her into the barracks, to the medical room. He tossed his flying jacket into the corner. Gillian followed his lead, casting aside her clothes. Within a minute they were both naked, except for Gillian who did not have time to remove her suspender belt and nylons before Cavallo took her in his arms and almost threw her onto the examination table.
His hot insistent tongue convulsed in her mouth. Then it travelled to her ear, making her squirm and laugh. His dribbling erection pressed against her stocking-clad leg was a constant reminder of his intent. When his lithe tongue, caressing lips and nibbling teeth encountered her neck she moaned.
Her pussy tingled, it’s moistness increasing by the moment. Her juices flowing so freely that her anus was already wet.
His hands were kneading her breasts, pinching nipples, almost too hard to stand at times. His passion dammed up waiting to be released, released into her.
She stroked his arms, his back, his neck. Ran her fingers through his close-cropped black hair. His mouth then travelled down across her stomach and between her legs. He lapped at her clitoris. She came almost immediately, never having experienced this before. He on the other hand obviously had. He lapped her gushing pink slit. She squirmed under his tongue’s caresses.
Her fingers gripped the top of the examination table behind her head. She was holding on so tightly her knuckles went white.
The glorious sensation between her legs stopped. She looked down to see Cavallo knelt between her legs, cock pointing skyward. He dropped to all fours, his hands either side of her and pushed his cock against her swollen mons. She felt his plum part her lips and his thick member slowly fill her aching sex.
She felt the resistance as he reached the back of her, then felt herself stretch slightly to accommodate him so their pubic hair entwined. He began to move inside her slow, short strokes at first, deep inside. Gradually he increased the speed and length. Gillian came like she had never cum before, intensely, violently. She found herself grabbing at Cavallo, yelling at him to fuck her like a tart.
After what seemed like hours, but must have been only a few sweet minutes, he came, her name on his lips. They held each other until the chill of the room penetrated their warm post-coital cocoon.
Thursday, 07 September 1944
First thing next morning Gillian was called to her CO’s office. The normally rather abrupt woman asked her to sit in an uncharacteristically faltering voice.
“This is a little unconventional, but I thought you’d like to know from me rather than find out on the grapevine” she began.
“I’m sorry I don’t understand?”, said a bemused Gillian.
“Lieutenant Cavallo …”
“How do you know about us?”, asked Gillian.
“Please, let me finish. I know you two had started to see each other. Base gossip is very efficient. So I’m sorry to have to tell you, but Lieutenant Cavallo received severe injuries on the raid yesterday. His aircraft made it back but I’m afraid he was badly injured. Our Doctor pronounced him dead when they landed last night.”
Gillian, ran from the CO’s office, tears burning her eyes. Her mind struggling to understand. He couldn’t be dead, he just couldn’t, she’d been with him last night. She ran to his plane, the nose blackened and holed with shell holes.
There, in the morning sunlight, picked out in red and white lettering she saw the aircraft’s name.
I wrote this story earlier this year because of a fellow blogger’s banner artwork. It was one of those moments where a story just happens. That sort of story doesn’t appear out of nothing, it’s more that a convergence of ideas and thoughts become an inspirational nexus, creating the writing naturally and almost fully formed at the first draft.
I’m very fond of the story for all sorts of reasons. Strange but true.
I’ve had a couple of comments from an anonymous “T”.
“hey alex and suze, ive been reading your blog for a while now. i have never orgasmed. my bf and i are working on it, hehe. i find it a bit scary tho, cos i get pins and needles sort of feeling in my hands, then my neck and ears, and today across my stomach. do you think this is normal? have you heard of this b4?
thanks for any help.
“hey, i recently lost my vriginirty to my bf of 3 weeks. it jsut sort of happened, i mean, i asked him to fuck me. we’ve done again since, but i dont enjoy it much, i feel used. he cums and i just get left with friction burns (maybe not that bad) and i havent orgasmed, which makes it worse.
anyway, great blog, keep up the good work.
P.S. could you maybe reply…..?”
Well yes “T” here’s your reply. 🙂
Orgasms are different for everyone. From my experience I get different sensations depending on how the orgasm is attained (penetrative, G-spot only, clitoral and the sensation of squirting).
Not achieving orgasm at all is not uncommon but is definitely not in itself a sign of a problem with you physiologically, emotionally or mentally. Nor is it indicative of a problem with your boyfriend or the relationship you have. Often these things take time to come right and a relationship is based on more than sex.
What does occur to me is that the more you worry about not achieving orgasm, the less likely you are to have one, as these sort of feeling are guaranteed to detract from the “moment”. It could be that your “pins and needles” are actually the beginning of an orgasm for you. But if you are tense about your love making with your bf it could be that the sensation is actually caused by worry. Tingling in the extremities can be an indicator of stress.
If you are not achieving orgasm you could try different positions, extended and varied foreplay and for the dryness use lubrication (water based, particularly if you’re using condoms for contraception). If your bf is unaware or unreceptive to you concerns, perhaps you could introduce the variety and play as an enhancement for him. The longer he waits before he cums the more intense his orgasm can be (according to Alex). Getting lubed and licked is something that both sexes enjoy and I’ve yet to find a man who objected to that sort of action, lol.
If you want my opinion on any of the above or any other issues, in total confidence, email me firstname.lastname@example.org.
But I think a disclaimer is required here, both for me and the Web as a whole. The views above are just that, based on my experience and my understanding of your questions. If you are really concerned about the situation with your bf, talk to a good friend, family if you feel able, or for a professional and genuinely informed opinion, your family doctor.
The Internet is full of views and “information”, much of it misleading and often deliberately incorrect, so be very wary of seeking advice via search engines and sites that claim to offer help. They may have an agenda, commercial or otherwise.
If you thought this post was going to be about a pop group. Wrong! I was thinking yesterday of all the things which have happened to me as a result of over indulgence in alcohol. We all have those memories the morning after and hope that nobody noticed what we did the night before. Or hope they put it down to you being drunk at the time. 😀
Somehow my over indulgence meter didn’t kick in when I was younger and I always ended up going round on that bloody merry-go-round and being sick. 🙁 I recall being at a party with a bf and over indulging. He had the brainy idea that I should eat burn toast, as it made you come round. I was in no fit state to argue with him. But I do recall the smell of burning bread and that made me wretch. Despite my nearly coating the kitchen table at our hosts house with vomit, he insisted that I bite in to this piece of blackened toast. Well, you can guess the rest can’t you…
I recall being at another party with my gf’s and them all copping off with someone, leaving me downstairs chatting to strangers. Before I knew it I was more than a little worse for wear and started crying that nobody fancied me. This guy I forget his name, came over and gave me a hug. Next thing I know he is kissing me. He wasn’t too bad either. I spent the night getting to know him whilst my friends had their brains shagged out upstairs.
We just talked and kissed and he had a quick play with my breasts but nothing more than that. When the party ended we exchanged phone numbers. I had second thoughts the following day when I realised that I had my beer goggles on when I kissed him the night before. I didn’t call him and I was rather thankful that he didn’t call me either.
My best friend and I went to see some strippers one evening. One of the acts was a Tarzan like guy with a snake. After he did his act I followed him round the back of the stage to see his snake. Ok, you can stop laughing now. He had a beauty…a six foot boa constrictor. Now if I had been sober I don’t think I would have done that. 😀
My common sense momentarily left me one night when I asked a male friend of mine to go upstairs and I would send up my friend to meet him. Let me just give you some background here. The girl was my lesbian best friend. I can’t recall how I managed to persuade her to go upstairs in to that bedroom. But I do remember everything being quiet when she entered the room. I stood and listened with my bf of the time. All was quiet…then five minutes later she emerged from the bedroom and down the stairs crying. I never found out exactly what happened. She didn’t want to discuss it. It took me days to make back up with her and taught me a very valuable lesson, don’t try and convert anyone sexually, especially not when you have had a drink. Now, if only I could get John Barrowman…
Once whilst clubbing with some GFs a persistent guy kept on coming on to me. Dancing really close almost rubbing his groin on my ass. I tried to very politely ignore him but he was having none of it. No matter how much I declined his offers of drinks, dances and to suck him off (only joking with the last one!), he just wouldn’t take no for an answer. So in my slightly inebriated I hatched a plan. I grabbed hold of my friend and began to give her a deep tongue probing kiss.
She was slightly taken back and I think that was why she didn’t resist. Although I am bi she wasn’t. She let me continue to kiss her. When I parted from her lips, she had a slightly shocked and stunned look on her face. I smiled and turned towards the guy, who had obviously enjoyed the floorshow. “I’m with her”, I said and we turned heels and made for the bar. It worked, he didn’t bother us again that night.
But the most significant drunken event was the loss of my virginity. But not to a total stranger. To my bf, who I had been seeing for about 4 months. I heard you all panic then for a moment that I had gone off with a total stranger and been taken advantage of. No, it wasn’t like that at all.
I missed my bus and he persuaded me to stay over. He still lived at home with his parents and they were in bed. We crept in to the house, up the stairs and it to his room. I started to talk and he shushed me, as his parents were in the adjoining room. We both undressed in the dark and slipped under the covers naked. My intention was to cuddle and nothing more. He had different ideas…
He was laying behind me spooning up to me and I could hear his breath against my ear. It was becoming deep and fast. His hand was around my waist, very innocent. He had felt up my breasts, taken them in his mouth but never done anything down there. I could feel his presence against my buttocks. He had an erection poking in to my flesh.
I stayed in position trying not to bring attention to his arousal. Then he started to rub up against me and he reached down between my legs and started to rub me through my panties. Of course I left them on, it wasn’t like I was going to screw him or anything! I recall him asking “Do you want to?”. I had to think about it for a moment and then I replied “yes”. He entered me from behind and gently fucked me. It’s all a bit fuzzy now but I did enjoy it. Despite being close to my 18th Birthday I still felt a little guilty for loosing my virginity.
It wasn’t like I slept around or was under age but I felt bad for quite some time afterwards. Don’t get me wrong I have no regrets about loosing my virginity in that way. It wasn’t at all sordid or meaningless sex, I thought I loved the guy at the time. I have wondered a few times over the years, would I have allowed him to take me if I had been sober? Who knows.
This topic will have to be revisited at some point because I’m sure as soon as I leave the keyboard more memories will come flooding back to me.
It’s getting cold outside …
Click the image below
… for a winter warmer 😉
Life evolves over time and by life, I mean sex life. Not that other aspects of life don’t develop, but this is AlexSuze.com so you didn’t come here to read about how I’ve devised a new way of knitting did you.
I got thinking about how at one point in your sex life some things are really “of the moment”. You want to keep doing them, then after a while you move on, do them less and concentrate on other areas. One such part of our physical relationship is “Squirting” or “Female Ejaculation”. We indulge in it very occasionally now, in fact it’s so long since Suze drenched my hand like that that I can’t remember when it was.
But there you go, the rich tapestry that is our physical relationship is constantly being rewoven. Which is a round-about way of introducing the following that I’d almost forgotten I wrote last year. This is not about some crap from a porn site or DVD, no this is from actual experience of Female Ejaculation. There’s no fountains of fluid drenching the room, that’s just the sort of stuff peddled by porn producers in their efforts to make their product more extreme than the next guy.
But it can get wet and always gets wild 🙂 . Enjoy.
I’ve been meaning to do this post for a long time. It describes a much misunderstood, and to some totally unknown, phenomenon. Female ejaculation.
I’m not talking about cumming here, or gushing with vaginal fluid. A dripping pussy is something that most women have experienced for themselves and men have in their partners. No this is different, not the warm silky feeling of a woman’s sex ready to be filled, but a torrent of a different kind.
Some women, and some men for that matter, find FE distasteful. Perhaps because it is only just becoming widely known, too often in the past being mistaken for peeing.
Now I am no sexual expert, no authority on this, so I can just impart my experience and understanding of the subject.
A few basics …
That in mind, if you want to try to get your female partner to ejaculate here’s a checklist.
Insert two fingers into your partner’s pussy, palm flat to her mound, resting on her clit. This has no effect on the stimulation/ejaculation, I’m just making sure you get the orientation right.
Which two fingers? I hear you ask. I find the middle and ring fingers are best giving the greatest penetration and just enough to reach your prize.
Slide the fingers in and bend them slightly back towards your palm until they just start to hook round the pubic bone.
You feel a raised structure, with two long indentations, one each side of it. This is the paraurethral gland it is what produces the ejaculate, which apparently is similar to male ejaculate from the prostate.
Here is where you massage.
Sometimes the pleasurable effect on the woman can be instant. Sometimes it takes a while to build up.
The first time you do this you may fail, and the second and third …
But persevere. It’s worth it for you both. Change your orientation to your partner and hers too, my experience tells me that anatomy plays a big part in this. You should try laying down, standing, doggy, sitting, but do experiment.
You’ll both know when you’ve found the spot. She will experience a feeling like she wants to pee urgently. This is where the relaxation will help. If she’s nervous about wetting herself, she should pee before you start. She isn’t going to pee it just feels like it.
Now keep stimulating. Depending on the woman, her mood and which point in her cycle she’s at you’ll have to adjust the firmness and speed of the stimulation. This isn’t as hard as it sounds. If you watch your woman you’ll see what works and hear it in her moans.
When she does start to ejaculate you’ll feel your hand flooded in hot nectar. Sometimes it’ll be almost colourless other times, cloudy. It can have a musky smell, but often has no smell at all.
Once you’ve achieved it you may or may not want to do it again. I’m sure some couples will not enjoy it. But we do, a lot.
When should you try again? We tend to do it once in any one day. You may want to try more often, but for us that’s it. Any more and in our case it seems the well has run dry so to speak.
When you’re adept at the technique you can make your lady squirt until she can squirt no more. You can bring her to a climax and down again by adjusting the stimulation. With care you can watch her surf the wave of pleasure for ten or twenty seconds before bringing her to climax and letting her excitement ebb again.
We find that if you can do this two things happen. Firstly the sensation becomes increasingly intense and eventually overwhelming with each climax. And secondly you eventually cannot stimulate her anymore as her pussy contracts onto your fingers so hard you can’t move. Indeed it can be difficult to remove them.
This morning was spent catching up with my blogger buddies and in the afternoon I decided to take a break from the PC screen. Alex was at work and I found myself feeling very randy. So I disappeared off to the bedroom to lie back on the bed and watch some porn.
I closed the curtains just in case anyone could see in to the bedroom. After all I wouldn’t want them to have a coronary as most of them are well in to old age around us. 🙂 Our porn DVD’s are now on top of the cupboards out of little nephew’s way, the last thing we want is for him to find them and run in holding one in his hand, lol.
We have quite a few to choose from but I hadn’t seen Cum Beggars by Third Degree for a while so I decided to slip that in to the player and then lay back on the bed. The sun was filling the room with a warm red glow as it cut through the curtains. I began to feel a little self indulgent and naughty going to bed in the afternoon to watch some porn.
I started the video up and began to watch the first scene with David Perry and Rita Faltoyano but it just didn’t seem to be hitting the spot. With a quick press of the skip button, I got to the scene featuring Jennifer S and some German guy, they were fucking outdoors on a patio somewhere in the former eastern block. This was more like it but not quite what I had in mind. I pressed skip once more.
This time the scene featured Julie Silver and some guys (If you know the name of the guys let me know. They only seem to name females in porn. Lol). The action didn’t take long to start, she was there rubbing her pussy through her panties, then rubbing her tits. Next thing you know she is naked with a guy either side of her. Now things were beginning to warm up. I felt my pussy tingle.
She was now sat in the middle of the two guys on the sofa. Wanking them both simultaneously, one in each hand. As soon as they were both hard, one guy got up off the sofa and she lay in the lap of the other, giving him a good tonguing and blowing him very convincingly. The other guy stood and wanked over her as she sucked the other guy’s dick.
Then out came the purple butt plug. She pushed it in to her ass and whilst she continued to suck the guy off. A couple of butt fucks with the plug and she pushed it in to her pussy. I was already twitching with desire to be fucked myself. My groin was aching and pulsing, I needed to release.
I opened the button and flies on my khaki cargo pants and pushed my hands in to my panties. My pussy was wet, no correction it was slimy wet. My fingers parted my labia and I began to run my clitoris with my index finger. This didn’t quite feel right so I switched to my middle finger. Ouch! I must remember to cut my nails, it’s far more practical.
The middle finger was now doing the trick. I rubbed it up and down my clit which was swelling under my touch. Alex has always managed to bring me to orgasm by clitoral stimulation but I had no idea how he did it. I had never watched or tried myself.
I switched to rubbing my clit from side to side but that didn’t seem to be as stimulating. Up and down movements were good! At first my touch was nice but not doing much towards bringing me off. I didn’t seem to be as sensitive as I had been when I came in the past. Then…bang…out of the blue my clit became really sensitised. Each motion I made became more and more pleasurable.
Instinctively I brought my legs together and crossed just my feet. Pressing one foot down on to the other and simultaneously squeezing my buttock together. For some reason this position heightened the intensity of my digital action. Try it girls and see if it works for you. I get a tingling in my back as I pull my buttocks in and push my pelvis upwards, meeting my own hand.
I opened my eyes again to look at the screen. Julie Silver was now kneeling on the sofa with one foot on the floor. She had the blonde guys cock in her mouth and the brunette was fucking her ass, with the square bottomed butt plug still in her pussy.
Well that pushed me over the edge. I began to feel tingling in my feet, fingers and lower spine. I tilted my pelvis further upwards, sticking my clit in to the air. My finger gathered more speed as I rubbed the mucous up and down my clit. I started to convulse as my orgasm came. Raising my back of the bed and trembling.
I continued to rub. This was something I didn’t think I would be able to do, continue to frig myself when I was coming. My hand was wet with cum and I had to stop my rubbing as my clit was now hyper sensitive to touch. I should imagine that is exactly how you guys feel when you have spilled you seed too.
A smile appeared on my face as I realised I had just had just given myself a first diy clitoral orgasm.
Alex, this is why I looked so happy when you came home this evening and why I told you to read this post before asking any more questions…
It may come as no surprise to some of you readers out there, that this month’s toy review focuses on the subject of my latest HNT. And may I say what a wonderful choice our voting readers made. Go on if you didn’t see me wearing them, have a scroll down to Thursday I’ll wait for you…
…you’re back then. 🙂 This month’s choice is the smaller of the two packages I took delivery of the other day. Alex and I have always enjoyed a little gentle restraint during sex. Usually using Alex’s ties to bind each other together or to the bed. To relinquish your control, your mobility and or senses to someone and allow them free reign can be very arousing.
Allure Three Piece Neck And Wrist Restraint Set
We have never used purpose made collar and cuffs before and I was more than a little excited at the prospect of wearing them for the first time. Let me disclose a little secret here, I have a bit of a thing for leather. I love the smell, feel and look of it against my skin. So this cuff and collar set didn’t have to try too hard to impress me. If you know what I mean. 😉
With HNT coming up and no idea what to do for this week’s, I decided to use the collar and cuff set. Genius! I hadn’t bargained on the reaction they would whip up. Alex prepared to take the picture and I disappeared in to our bedroom to slip in to my black PVC bra, panties and gloves.
I grabbed the package, still unopened and made my way to Alex who was busy setting in the lounge. He opened it and I was pleasantly surprised at the contents. Most of the sets I have looked at in the past had very flimsy restraints, I suppose you could say they were more decorative than functional.
These were made of good quality thick leather and both the chain and padlock are very robust. All the better for straining against, hey girls! Yes, I nearly forgot…and boys. Lol. Alex slipped the collar around my neck first. It felt good and…uhm…it smelt wonderful!
He then fastened the cuffs around my wrists, left then right. May I add at this point, there is plenty of adjustment to all three which means they can be worn by either sex and the cuffs can be worn around the ankles too if you like. A very versatile set.
As Alex was fastening the right cuff I looked down at his groin. There was something happening down there. A bulge was starting to take shape at the front of his jeans. He was enjoying this…Snap and the padlock was in place, leaving me unable to do anything except rest my chained hands upon my breasts.
With a swift tug of the chain Alex drew me to his mouth and started to kiss me with passion. He almost took my breath away, I was totally unprepared for this. His tongue swirled and darted around my mouth and his groin began to rub against my leg. He still had hold of the chain and I was powerless to resist his attention.
He broke free from the embrace and loosened his grip on my chains allowing me to finally place my heels back on the carpet. “Uhm…” , he exclaimed. “This is turning you on, isn’t it?”, I enquired, already knowing the answer. “It certainly is”, he replied. He placed the camera he had been holding down on the coffee table and began to undo the button on his jeans.
His excitement was no longer contained as his jeans slid down his legs to the floor. His boxer shorts had a huge protuberance pointing outwards at a 90 degree angle. His cock was rock hard. Forget the Viagra this set induced an almost instant erection. 😉
I watched with eager anticipation as he slipped the last foot free of his boxer’s and he headed over to me. He took the chain once again in his hands and pulled me down towards the floor. I sank to my knees, Alex still holding the chain firmly in his hands.
He waved his erect cock in front of my face. It bounced up and down before my eyes with a blood engorged turgidity. He was so hard it was almost plum coloured. “Suck it”! He demanded of me. Who was I to say no? I opened my mouth urging him to slip it inside. Pre cum coated my tongue as I flicked around the tip of his erect cock. He pulled on my chain once more forcing me to accept more of his erection in my mouth. “Take it, take it all”. By this point my panties were becoming moist and my nipples were hard but restrained in the tight PVC of my bra. Pushing up against the fabric, needing to be pinched and sucked.
Alex began to motion his hips forward and back, gently fucking my mouth as he held me right there. I drew breaths on the out stroke avoiding suffocation, as he almost filled my mouth completely with his phallus. I knew I was about to have my cervix probed when he finally got around to fucking me.
He increased his speed and depth of thrust and was now banging away at my mouth like. One hand was still on the chains the other in my hair as he fucked away. “No…I’m going to have to stop, I’m close to coming”, he declared withdrawing from my mouth.
“Stand up”, he demanded of me. I rose to my feet with aide of a little pulling on the chain. “Bend over there”, he gestured as he pushed my hips around and bent me over the back of the sofa. He hooked his fingers in to each side of my panties and pulled them down. I stepped out of them and kicked them to one side.
He pushed my legs further apart with his hand and guided himself between my pussy lips and inside my eager vagina. I was pulsing now, needing to be taken. Not gently but with full thrust and slapping of cheeks on groin. Alex could sense my need and began to fuck me hard and fast. Steadying me by holding my hips firm as he fucked away. I had placed my hands under my head as I gripped the back of the sofa, legs spread wide. The smell of my leather restraints filling my nasal passages. The shortness of the chain making me contort and strain to maintain my hold on the leather backrest cushion.
I came once, twice, three times and with a muted growl Alex stopped fucking and withdrew his cock. Allowing his seed to spurt out on to my lower back. Running his cock along the top of my buttocks as he drained the last drop of cum from his vas deferens.
The images for HNT were taken the following day and I must admit we had to keep our minds on the job this time. 🙂
It’s difficult to find fault with this set. But if I had to make one criticism it’s that they can be undone by the wearer when attached to the neck collar. However the addition of a couple of small padlocks through the eyelets of the wrist/ankle cuffs would solve that problem. And if used to tether and spread the wearer they would be impossible to remove anyway.
The restraints are excellent quality, thick, strong, supple leather, seamless metalwork and well finished.
The chain and padlock supplied is stronger than the one illustrated on the packaging and will take a lot of punishment.
The size of the wrist/ankle cuffs and collar are sufficiently adjustable for almost any stature of wearer.
Bart lowered his fist and waited for Liz to answer the door. The weight on his shoulders was heavy now, taking all his will to prevent his burden showing. It was almost impossible to rise every morning, but rise he did. And by the end of each day he was barely able to disguise his true form.
The door opened inward, framing Liz. She was wearing her hair in a ponytail, a tightly fitted dress, claret, no blood-red and matching high heeled shoes. Her eyes were captivating, makeup emphasising their clear green-blue.
“You look beautiful.” Complimented Bart with a self-satisfied smile. “Good enough to eat.”
“I do hope so.” Liz purred.
She took his arm for the short walk to the car.
For some reason she had assumed he would have a Volvo. So the sight of the RX8’s indicators flashing at her when he deactivated the alarm was both unexpected and welcome. She’d always been a car-whore, from being a teenager. Never cheap, or sleeping around, but always more likely to accept an invitation from a guy with low-profile tyres and leather seats. Unfortunately the sort of guys with those cars expected payment in kind for the use of their wheels, so they didn’t last long …
Twin rotors purred into life, growling slightly as they pulled off, Bart using the whole of the engine’s range as he sped towards the motorway.
“Where are we going?” asked Liz
“To a little place I know, you’ll like it.”
Once on the motorway the speedometer never dipped below 110. The traffic seemed to melt away in front of them, police vehicles seemed otherwise engaged.
Liz was becoming impatient. She had thought she had been invited for a romantic meal, followed by who knows what? Well she knew what, a meaningless one night stand with great sex and no regrets. But the bastard was making her wait, and taking her far out of London to goodness knew where. Bastard.
She realised her hand had found its way onto his knee and decided to distract him. Maybe he’d pull over at a friendly pub, they could eat and then she’d find out how practical it was to fuck in this rather sexy Mazda. She wanted to be taken as he had in her dreams, rough and powerful, leaving her to wake wet and horny. Her hand stroked his groin causing him to shuffle in his seat as the bulge in his lap became larger.
Motorways gave way to Oxfordshire country roads, then narrow lanes. Finally he pulled up in a small layby, no more than a passing place. She could see the lights of a small cottage over the hedgerow and a small, green-painted gate to one side. He led her to the gate.
“Friends of yours?” she asked.
“We’re not going in. That’s the caretakers house, they don’t like visitors.”
The gate opened not onto the garden of the cottage as she had imagined, but a small field. The grass was rough but short and Liz could make out several dark shapes protruding from the ground like broken teeth.
The cool air began to bite into Liz’s naked legs. “And exactly where are we?”, she asked, stumbling across the soft, uneven ground in four inch heels.
“These are the Nine Ladies. They’re supposed to be witches, turned to stone.”
He stopped at the centre of the stones and turned to face her. “Not what you were expecting was it.”
“I don’t know what I was expecting.” Liz replied honestly.
Bart slid an arm around her, pulling her against him and grinding the hard bulge in his trousers against her.
“Here?” she exclaimed.
“Here”, he breathed, his hot breath enveloping her, impregnating her with a burning warmth and fiery desire. He cast off his jacket and began to remove his other clothes. She turned her back to him, “Zip?” she asked. His hand released the zipper slowly. She slipped out of her dress and turned to face him just as he pulled down his underwear and release a magnificent erection, thick and veined. It seemed to radiate heat and beckon her.
Their torsos pressed together, the only barrier between them now her bra panties and hold-ups. His strong hands slid up under her bra, pushing both cups over her nipples, allowing the full orbs to escape their lacy captors. Toying with her nipples he viewed his prize with satisfaction. She had a figure, last years had been too skinny, eager to please, but ultimately not as fulfilling as taking a shapely woman. But he had experienced so many women since …
“You have a weakness for the humans?” It was a statement.
“Yes my Lord.”
“We do not wish to punish you, they are so easy to feel pity for. We have a burden for you that will serve to educate you and ensure order up there.” His Lord loved the “Royal We”, but His Lord could also read his mind, Bart did not pity the humans his Lord was toying with Bart.
With that Bart was banished from the realm of daemons and made to walk the earth for eternity, pulling the year forward, one day, one hour, one minute, one step at a time. Always rising at the appointed hour and gaining his strength from the one event that each year gave him the means to carry on. Such a dark but equitable punishment from his Master, to carry the immense burden of the turning seasons for all time, but allowing him, once each year and once only, to indulge in his guilty pleasure. Humans.
“Are you going to use this?” asked Liz, stroking the swollen head of his cock with her red-painted fingernails.
He unhooked her bra, then she slipped off her panties, struggling to bypass her heels. The cold air prickled their skin but neither of them shivered, their unearthly passion burned bright and hot. Their naked forms almost glowed with it.
She cupped his balls in her hand as he thrust his molten tongue into her wiling mouth. The twin orbs felt heavy with seed as she gently rolled them in her palm. Her stomach was becoming wet with his precum, making her conscious of her own moist desire.
Then it happened, as in her dreams. Strong hands raised her up, nails biting into her flesh. She raised her legs and wrapped them around Bart. His phallus probed her hot, slick furrow, bulbous head spreading her wide. Her mouth opened wide, gasping, eyes rolling back, wanting to scream and cry out with joy as inch after inch of him filled her.
Then he began the slowly accelerating, undulating motion that took her body closer and closer to the ultimate, undeniable, unstoppable conclusion. She held his shoulders, not for support, his mighty forearms were more than up to the job of slamming her repeatedly onto his burning cock, but to express her wild, animal desire. Her nails sliced his flesh, drawing blood. They moved to his neck, her talons scraping into his hairline.
The wind around them grew in strength, a bitter northerly only deflected by the unearthly glow from within them. And as the icy flailing wind whipped at their skin they both came, hot semen pumping in waves from his cock, her dripping pussy contracting in waves, accepting his issue.
There was a knock at the door, the octogenarian caretaker took her time. Putting the kettle on to boil before making her way let the caller in.
“Evening Bartholemew.” She grinned.
“Tea?” Mary asked Liz.
Mary regarded the scratches on one of Bart’s cheeks with thinly disguised amusement. “You pick a spirited one this year.”
Liz blushed, beetroot red before asking “This Year?”
With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.
Solemn the drums thrill: Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres.
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.
They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
They mingle not with laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England’s foam.
But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;
As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain,
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.
I wanted to do a sort of follow up post after this one that I did the other week. As I explained in that post, I’m not a miss goody two shoes. Most of my life up until a couple of years ago has been spent pursuing the joys of the weed.
Both my parents smoked and in our household it was the norm for people to smoke in and around the house. My parents always insisted that they were now hooked and when they first started smoking they didn’t realise the detriment to their lives. Total rubbish, everyone knew smoking could cause lung cancer.
I clearly remember actively trying to get them to stop. Hiding their cigarettes from them was a popular method. This would only enrage them, they knew I had hidden them. A conclusion they reached having checked all the normal places they would put the packet.
Eventually I stopped trying to get them to stop. I clearly remember being dragged up on to the upper deck of the bus where smoking was permitted and having to sit in an atmosphere you could cut with a knife. Just so my parent could smoke. Strange, but in those days it wasn’t really frowned upon to drag your offspring upstairs to inhale your fumes.
All things conspired to me growing up to be a smoker myself. Only my parents didn’t realise just how young I was when I first started. I don’t clearly recall how old I was but can hazard a guess based on my friends and activities around that time. Probably about…eight years old. Young I know but I had friends who started to smoke at that age too.
I had a fortunate childhood. No poverty and lots of surrounding open countryside and fresh air around me. Don’t get me wrong we weren’t blessed with a fortune, just comfortably well off. Like most of the families in the area. A product of a working class family and grateful for having such a grounding in life. As a result I never take anything for granted.
As children we would meet up in the local countryside to enjoy the long days and play. I don’t recall who brought the first packet of fags but I do recall trying one and turning a funny shade of green as I proceeded to cough up a lung. On reflection, why did I persist? I could have just stopped there. I suppose I thought I looked grown up, mature just like every other deluded child who takes their first draw of the dreaded weed.
I coughed my way through the cigarette and from that moment on I was hooked. Not in the sense of addiction but the thrill of doing something adults do, something naughty. After that first go at it all six of us used to gather together our spending money to buy a pack of ten. Naively, we bought Consulate (one of the first menthol brands) believing that you could not detect them on your breath.
Shop keepers back then would serve children with cigarettes in the belief that they were being bought for the parents. It wasn’t unknown for a parent to ask a child to go to the shops to buy them a packet of cigarettes. So the shopkeepers never questioned who they were for. The fact that your parents smoked Players and you were in there buying Consulate, not in twenty’s but in ten’s never aroused suspicion. Lol. More like they turned a blind eye.
We would sometimes draw lots for who was going to the shops to buy the cigarettes. More often than not we would then decide that a particular member looked older than the rest of us that day and they should go. 😀 Hiding the packet for next time was always fun. This was a shared responsibility. Each of us taking turns. I always found somewhere outside to hide them, I just couldn’t run the risk of being caught. Under the bin outside was a favourite.
The ritual of congregating on the field and having a crafty cigarette went on for years and as I became bolder and older I would often pinch the odd cigarette from my parents. This went on in to my teens, when I became quite brazen and would pinch twenty sometimes as they bought by the 200’s. My best friend and I would smoke them outside in the garden when my parents weren’t around.
As I grew older I started to smoke in my room when my parents were out. The house always smelled of smoke anyway, so I figured that I would be able to get away with it. I even had an ashtray under my bed. 🙂 Can you believe I actually got away with this until I was seventeen, when I came clean and admitted that I smoked.
Well, what could my parents say? They both smoked. I recall my mum was none too happy but didn’t chastise me as I was now old enough to partake. But I never came clean about just how long I had been smoking not until years later. She never knew.
Click the image below to see if they match 😉
Sorry for the interruption of service earlier today. It appears it was due to an unprecedented number of hits.
Apologies if I didn’t get round to visiting your blogs this weekend but Alex took a long one with me and we had lots and lots to do. I can’t fill you in on the details yet but I will. I will try and catch up with everyone today. It’s going to be a long one! 🙂
Last night we both settled down in to bed early to watch “Saw”. If you haven’t seen this one yet I urge you take a look at it. It is very good edge of the seat stuff with lots of gore but I felt the ending let it down a bit. But take a look and let me know what you think.
So there we were lying in bed with just the light from the television illuminating the room. There must be something about watching horror that makes me want to reach out and grab something to hold on to. Lol. Ok, I had my hand on Alex’s groin as we lay side by side.
Despite the visuals playing before us he was responding in a very positive way to my playing with his cock. I started off by gently rolling it against his belly and running my fingers down between his legs, pressing firmly against his perineum. I didn’t need to ask if I was hitting the right spot. His hip movement gave that right away.
We continued to watch the movie and he continued to grow in my hands. When he became firm I made the “O” shape with my thumb and middle finger and began to work his foreskin gently back and forth over his glans. This grip is ideal for stimulating the frenulum at the same time with your index finger. As I push back the foreskin I rub my moistened finger against his frenulum. Alex released a moan, I knew my ministrations were having the desired effect. 😉
Pre cum began to dribble from is tip, I picked it up with my finger and spread it around his swollen head. I pushed his skin back again, this time lubricating his erection with his own seminal fluid. The blood caused through him and he was so hard I wondered if he would burst.
Have you ever enjoyed something but wished it would finish so that you could do something else? That’s how I started to feel about the film, I knew it was close to finishing but I wanted to finish something of my own. 😉 My pussy was swollen and I wanted to feel Alex penetrate me, take me.
I continued to give Alex a slow, lets keep it hard wank. Just enough to keep him hard but not too much as to push him over the edge and beyond the point of no return. My willing the movie to finish worked, not to say that I didn’t enjoy it because I did but I don’t like things getting in the way of my carnal pleasures. 😀
Alex rolled over and took me in his arms as the credits began to roll and we kissed with passion. He nearly bit my lip in the heat of the moment. I always knew a way to a man’s heart was through his cock. Lol. We explored each other’s mouths with our tongues as he pushed his groin against mine and my tits flattened against his chest.
As we separated and drew breath the room fell in to total darkness. The film had come to an end. Alex and I have always pursued our pleasures of the flesh in light, be it bulb, candle or another source. Being in total darkness was both alien and a completely new sensory experience. I couldn’t recall the last time we had fucked in the dark.
My senses seemed to be finely honed and each fingertip on my body made my hairs stand on end, my skin break in to goose bumps. Alex continued to trace his fingers over my stomach digitally conducting my senses with each stroke.
“Get up on to your knees”, he demanded. And who was I to say no? I wanted to feel his hard flesh ripping in to me. I assumed the position, ass in the air. He nuzzled up to me and pushed his erection between my now, very slippery pussy lips. I could feel my muscles stretch as he entered me. His cock head pushing inwards, the edge of his helmet pushing against my vaginal walls.
Every feeling seemed to heightened and sensitised. He push in deeper. Until he go no further and then slowly, very slowly he pulled out until just the tip was nestling in between my engorged lips. In he pushed again, every receptor within my vagina fired on touch as he passed over them. I can only compare this total awareness to being a virgin once more. Feeling that first hard cock enter my virginal hole.
Alex began to pound in to me like some kind of wild animal. My ass cheeks slapping against his groin. Trying my hardest not to be knocked over with the force. My legs almost gave way a couple of times as he slammed it home. I think at one point my head made contact with the headboard but my orgasms came one after the other.
My legs were shaking and I felt as if I was tripping on some magical hallucinogenic as my body seemed to convulse in time with the waves of orgasm as they gripped and enraptured my body. I am not a synaesthete unlike Alex but I almost felt like I could sense the colour of my orgasms as they hit.
Finally Alex could hold out no longer and he pulled out of me and let his seed spill on to my buttocks and lower back. I reached round gathered some of his cum on my fingertips and placed them in my mouth, just before he collapsed, spent on top of me. Taste the final sensory pleasure.
I am an advocate for sex with the light on but as we discovered it’s nice to do it in the dark every now and then. 😉
I have attempted not to make this too graphic, but this is not a pleasant story. If you’re offended by scenes of drug-taking, violence against women or prostitution please do not read this post. If you start reading please read to the end. Thank you.
The blunt needle barged its way through the scar tissue on the wall of the vein in her arm. The syringe flushed briefly red as the plunger was drawn back, before forcing its payload of opiate-oblivion into her bruised arm. The precision guided delivery system fell into the grimy basin in front of her.
She looked into the broken mirror, now seeing past the dark rings around her eyes, the years falling from her face as the familiar golden brown warmth enveloped her. To a casual observer she appeared to be in her mid twenties, but with a blotchy pallid complexion. After a few moments she saw herself at her true age, 18 and already submerged in the one profession that her straight A’ grades would never have hinted at only two years before.
She turned towards the bed, smiling, cloudy-eyed and limp limbed. He was staggering out of his clothes, cheap scotch and sweat oozing from every pore. “How much for bare-back?” he grunted.
Reality pricked her protective cocoon just long enough for her to say, “I don’ do that.”. She threw a handful of condoms at him. Grudgingly he fumbled a prophylactic onto his penis.
She lay back on the bare mattress and drifted off into her usual retreat, before he hand lumbered into position on top of her and forced his eager member between her legs.
It was summer, or at least she always remembered it as such. He was tall and slim with a kind laugh that made him the object of every senior girl’s nocturnal fantasies. She was ordinary, but despite being the least remarkable girl in her year he had asked her out on a picnic. Her mother approved, probably because the concept of a picnic was so old-fashioned. “He seems like a nice boy, very polite.” …
A honey-lit day, fragranced by flowers and mown grass ensued. She held herself there, remembering their laughter, the gentle inadvertent touch of his hand on her arm as he reached for a sandwich. Then he made his uncertain play for a kiss, awkward and charmingly naÃ¯ve. His lips lingered on hers for a moment before he pulled away to gauge her reaction.
She wanted more, and late in the afternoon she found herself in his arms, tongues writhing tenderly in one mouth then the other. She felt his excitement against her leg, but he did not seek to pursue it on this, their first date, despite the involuntary thrust of his pelvis against her.
She tried to loop the memories for as long as she could, wrapping herself in their protective embrace. But he was taking too long. She became aware of the stinking client on top of her. As she rose out of the sea of heroin he became her father.
She had returned home that evening walking on air, feeling blessed and special. When she walked through the door she knew something was wrong. Her mother was crying in a way she had never seen before, desolately, with a hopeless look in her eyes.
He took her by the wrist, twisting it viciously, calling her a tart, whore, harlot. His hand smote her face with a blow that would keep her away from school for a fortnight because of the bruising, and even then “How clumsy of her, walking into a door …”
Then she was dragged to her bedroom, HER BEDROOM. Her sanctuary. She could feel him now, telling her that boys were after one thing and he wasn’t going to let them take it from her. So he took it instead, and with the gift that should be given freely and can only be given once he stole something else too. Her dignity.
It was like the opening of a floodgate, every night he would enter her room, shutting the door to keep out the sound of her mother’s tears. At first her mother argued with him but after a week or so her protestations stopped and she simply whimpered her resigned misery.
Decades of loathing for himself and women flooded, until she felt she had only two exits. She hovered at the first one afternoon. She had ducked out of class and filled a bath full of hot water to numb the pain. But as the steel touched her marble skin she knew this was not her way out.
Instead she had arrived by a route of tortuous complexity and hideously bad fate to this squalid bed-sit. This hell-on-earth existence that she called living.
Mercifully he grunted his climax and rolled off her immobile form.
He threw twenty pounds between her open legs. “That’s all I have”. Ten less than they agreed, but she was too tired to argue. He picked up his coat from the floor and left. At the front door of the flats he slipped into the coat as the November air cut through him. As he did the hypodermic needle that had lodged in the sleeve skewered his wrist. He swore and pulled it out, throwing it into the gutter.
The speck of dried blood lingered on the wall of the capillary it had insinuated for just a moment before being swept along his blood vessels. It left a delicate stream of polyhedral virus particles in its wake.
Thank you for reading this post. If you want to do something about the sort of horror that domestic violence and abuse can cause please visit this site.