I wanted to kiss Holly’s gorgeous body all over.
The two of us were on holiday in Barbados, and we spent the first day on the beach. We were supposedly there to look at men and hook up for two weeks of hot holiday sex, but I couldn’t help glancing at her body as she lay beside me in the sun. I’d never seen her in a bikini before. This was the first time I was treated to the sight of the lovely smooth skin of her stomach and her legs.
But I wanted to see more. I wanted her hot naked body in my hands while my lips explored her.
At the end of the afternoon we went back to our hotel room. It was five floors up and overlooked the lovely blue ocean. We talked about what we were going to eat that night, and what club to go to, but there was a tension in the air. I was trying to hide my feelings from her, but it was so difficult.
Suddenly she looked at me with her soulful eyes and said, ‘Wendy, can I ask you something?’
‘Of course,’ I said uncertainly.
‘Have you ever kissed a girl?’
My heart began to race.
‘What do you mean?’ I asked.
She stepped closer.
‘I mean,’ she said softly, ‘have you ever explored the beauty of kissing another girl?’
Her eyes were warm, burning into me, searching me out. I felt this couldn’t be happening. It was like my wildest dreams were coming true.
‘You must have thought about it, surely?’ she said. Her voice was so soft, like she wanted to take care of me and guide me to a new experience.
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ I said awkwardly. I looked away out of the window at the sea. Did I tell her that I often watched lesbian porn, and found girl on girl sex the most sensual. My cheeks heated at just the thought.
‘Really? Really, Wendy?’ she giggled. ‘Do you think I couldn’t tell how you felt by the way you looked at me in the office?’
‘You could tell?’ I said, looking back at her in surprise.
‘I could tell you wanted to be kissed… like this,’ she said, leaning close to me and whispering the words gently in my ear.
And then she slowly and delicately kissed my cheek. God. Her lips were so soft against my skin. It felt delicious.
‘And… like this,’ she said, as she warmly kissed my forehead.
I closed my eyes because my head was in such a whirl.
‘And also… like this,’ she said, as she trailed her lips into a kiss on the side of my neck.
Previously, Holly and I had been working in an office in London. It was stuffy and miserable, and it seemed like the city was always overcast with clouds. I had only started a few months ago, and she sat opposite my desk. I was nervous and uncertain about the people there, and the millions of things I had to learn, but on my first day she smiled such a lovely smile and took me under her wing as she looked after me. I loved the way she was so protective. So who could blame me for developing feelings for her? But I had been too frightened to say anything. I kept glancing at her when we were working, and I was obsessed with the curve of her lips, and the sparkle in her eyes, and the little tune she used to hum when she looked things up on the computer.
When we took our lunch breaks together, my heart was bursting with all the things I wanted to tell her. Like how when she typed on her keyboard I wanted to reach out and caress her lovely hands, and even the little things, like when she asked to borrow my pen, made my head tingle with love for her. But I was so frightened of telling her how I felt. Would I lose her friendship? Would she be shocked that I wanted to take things further, and blab it all over the office?
Would she move to another desk? Would she get me fired? I was in turmoil.
But I couldn’t help my feelings. She had a warm, caring heart, and I was falling in love with her. Anyway, time went on and she suggested we go on holiday to Barbados together. We were going to check out the men, but my heart only leapt at the chance to go because it meant we could be together.
Our own private world.
And now, in this hotel room, she breathed softly against my skin and said, ‘Wendy, it’s lovely for a girl to kiss another girl… don’t fight it. Relax. It’s very, very normal.’
And she began to kiss her way up from the base of my neck to the top. Her kisses were warm, soft, and filled with tenderness.
‘Does that feel good?’ she asked gently.
‘Very good,’ I said, still locked in my shyness.
‘Look at me,’ she said. ‘Look at how much I want you.’ She kissed my fingers, and the palm of my hand, and it was so beautiful seeing her soft red lips play gently upon my skin. ‘Can you see?’
‘Yes,’ I said in a whisper.
‘But when lips kiss, that’s the best of all,’ she said, and her hands were gently running through my hair, protecting me, wanting me, and tenderly caressing me. ‘Let me show you.’
She kissed my lips. I could hold back no longer. I was exploding inside. I ran my fingers through her soft hair in response, wanting to make her feel as protected as I was, wanting her to feel the same warmth she was blossoming into my body.
‘I’ve wanted to do this for so long, when I sat opposite you in the office,’ she said. ‘You’ve got such lovely lips, Wendy. I couldn’t bear to think of your lips not wearing my kiss.’
I was amazed at what I was hearing. The words were lighting up my heart. We kissed again. Her tongue sought mine out, and I could feel her sexual soul trying to pour itself through the warm soft kiss, as if she was trying to melt herself into me and possess me. Which I wanted. Very much.
‘Does that feel good?’ she asked tenderly, her eyes shining as she looked back at me.
‘Very good,’ I smiled back.
‘Well, we must devote our lives to what feels good, if life is to have any purpose,’ she said. ‘Now, Wendy, I have something to ask you… would you like to be naked with me?’
‘Oh, Holly, yes,’ I said, my heart racing with excitement.
‘Because I want to kiss you all over,’ she said, ‘and I want to nourish every sweet inch of your body with my lips… and I’m afraid these clothes are getting in the way. Don’t you agree?’
With a gorgeous grace, she deftly peeled her bikini from her trim body, performing for me, wanting me to enjoy watching her. I was mesmerized. The dreams I had when I played with myself in my apartment, fantasizing about her — they were all coming true.
‘God, Holly,’ I said, studying her exquisite breasts. ‘You’re so beautiful.’
‘Let me show you the what a kiss can really mean,’ she said softly. She kissed me again, and I couldn’t help closing my eyes as I succumbed to the electricity in it.
Fire. That’s what I wanted and needed. For my soul to feel like it was on fire.
I felt my body was going to burst with happiness. I reached out and stroked her naked body as she held me in the kiss. She was so warm, alive, all of her skin a furnace, and her limbs moving with molten desire.
‘Holly,’ I whispered, ‘do you know how much I want you?’
‘Oh your touch is telling me that loud and clear,’ she said with a smile.
Her voice was husky, seductive. I was so grateful she was taking the lead and seducing me. I needed another woman to open the door of my mind, to give me the permission to be sexual with her. And I knew that once the door was open, there would be no stopping me.
She gracefully pulled my top off. I felt deliriously happy, knowing that my breasts were exposed to the woman I wanted most in the world. I stood against the open window and I could feel the sea breeze tenderly caressing my bare back, and her warm hands were exploring me, caressing me with love.
I could see the beautiful blue sky out of the corner of my eye, and below it the shimmering sea, and as I enjoyed her fingers gliding over my body, I felt like the whole landscape had all been created for me, and I was like a focal point of the world.
This is what I want from life so much, I told myself. To be naked in a beautiful place, far from the grey skies of London — to be here, naked and making love forever.
I cupped her face in my hands and kissed her. I put as much tenderness and love into it as I could, to really reach into the heart of her.
‘Holly,’ I whispered, ‘I feel like I want to trap this moment in a bottle.’
She nodded in understanding. ‘Tell me.’
‘I don’t want your kisses to ever end. I don’t want to go back to London. I don’t want to sit opposite each other with our restrictive clothes on, in a stuffy office with a miserable boss.’
‘I know, Wendy, I know,’ she murmured softly, as she trailed wet kisses across my bare breasts. ‘That’s not what life is about. That’s false. This is where life is. Let me show you the true pleasure of having another woman kiss your nipples.’ She massaged my breasts, and then clamped her hungry mouth around my erect buds, circling her tongue in love around them.
I closed my eyes and arched my head back, amazed at the electricity in her kisses. She knelt before me and her delicate hands moved to my bikini briefs and undid the straps, and her fingers were like graceful little butterfly kisses as they brushed against the vulnerable skin of my thighs.
She pulled my briefs away and I gasped with delirious pleasure to be naked at last before her — and even better, I could tell in her eyes that she liked what she saw.
As if on cue, the gorgeously warm breeze from the sea blew against my bare back and over the cheeks of my naked bottom, while Holly caressed the front of my body with her tongue and her hands, and everything was coming together to make me feel so free and liberated, and I wished my life could always be like this. I wanted to be so exposed to Holly’s hot tongue and the sea and the sky, to feel more naked than I ever had. I wanted to learn everything she could teach me about lesbian love. This electric feeling was better than my dreams. Much better.
‘This is the only reality for us, Wendy,’ she whispered up to me. ‘Giving in to these most normal pleasures with another woman.’
Everything felt so precious. She gently slid her fingers inside me, and I wanted her to pour herself into my soul, to place herself so deep that she would never leave me. I felt I was in the hands of an experienced teacher who could take me on any sexual journey she wanted. Her warm thumb began to skillfully rub against my clit, making me gasp, and I could tell she knew naturally how to bring pleasure to my body, by being a woman herself. It was like we were part of the same color, the same fabric; the feeling that we were the loving echo of each other was blowing my mind.
‘I just want this, forever,’ I whispered back to her, as I felt my climax nearing. ‘This is all I want. To be naked with you for the rest of my life, to just exist here as you make love to me in this Barbados bubble — and to feel you’ll never let me go.’
‘You’re loving this, aren’t you?’ she grinned. ‘I can feel the excitement in your body.’
‘I can’t help it,’ I breathed raggedly as my pussy luxuriated under her expert touch. ‘I’m in love with you.’
After all the tension back in grey London, after all that worry about being rejected by her — at last the call of my body’s deep needs were being answered.
‘It’s you, Holly — it’s you I want,’ I moaned. ‘I’m so glad you took the lead. I’ve wanted to make love to you for so long, I could have burst with the frustration.’
‘I know,’ she smiled, as her fingers parted my wet lips aside and set up a delightful rhythm inside my pussy. ‘I wanted you just as much in turn. I want to let you in on a little secret — I didn’t plan this trip to meet men — I only planned it so I could make love to you.’
‘Oh, please, don’t stop,’ I urged her in a gasp, as I could feel my climax approaching. I ran my fingers through her hair as my body felt so delightfully vulnerable in her expert skills. ‘Please, please — go on,’ I murmured back at her, trying to make my voice as soft as possible to hold the softness and tenderness of the moment. ‘Don’t stop honey… I’m all yours.’
My climax overtook me. My body shuddered against the window, and I felt like I was like a firework, exploding up there in the hot sky over Barbados; my soul was bursting in a blessed release as I soared up there into the elements, into the beauty of the blue.
‘I love you, Wendy,’ she whispered tenderly, ‘and I want to take so much care of you.’ She kissed her lips over my quivering thighs as the orgasm raced through me.
‘What’s in a kiss?’ she said, as my body still heaved against the glass. My mouth was wide open in joy, as the pleasures overtook my mind, too strong for me to form words.
‘Heaven,’ she whispered, ‘and liberation, and the chance to truly feel who you are — that’s what the best kisses have inside them… that’s why you need them.’
My climax slowly subsided, and I looked down at her through my half-open eyes, and I could clearly see her longing for me. I felt so safe and protected, knowing she loved me for who I was, and that she loved me for my feelings towards her, and that she wouldn’t shame me for my desires; I stroked her hair as my heart soared with joy because she acknowledged and accepted all the normal sexual feelings inside me for her that had been building up over time.
She closed her eyes and kissed my thighs tenderly, and her golden kiss held her loving encouragement of all my lesbian desires.
‘Be free,’ she murmured against my skin. ‘Be yourself, be free, be happy.’
I couldn’t help running my fingers through her beautiful hair.
‘Do my lips feel good against your skin?’ she asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Then always dedicate yourself to what feels good,’ she smiled, as she trailed more soft kisses along the length of my thighs. ‘And savor the moments in a kiss. There’s no rush. Live inside the kisses. Explore them. Know them. A kiss is a map of the human heart. Enjoy it. Celebrate it.’
‘I want you, Wendy,’ I said tenderly as I reached down to stroke her lovely face. ‘I want to know you more than I’ve ever known you. I want to know you… in the height of your orgasm.’
‘Well… I’ve got a toy,’ she said, her eyes gleaming. ‘I use it to play with myself. Would you please… thrust it inside me?’
She padded over to her handbag and took out a huge purple dildo. I smiled to think she must have carried it around with her everywhere she went — well, that would be Holly; liberated, sexual, not caring a damn if anybody else saw it, or what anybody thought.
My heart swelled with love for her, and I wanted to be her; I wanted to have the sexual heart and soul she had, and to live the exciting life of freedom she took for granted.
‘Would you like to slide this inside me?’ she grinned.
‘Of course.’
She ran it across my mouth. I opened my lips to perform for her while I looked deeply into her eyes. I wanted her toy inside me, so that an object she had chosen to take her to her climaxes would be in my body; I wanted that mirror of intense connection. I wanted anything of her private sexual world, her private sexual choices, inside me so that I could feel we were merging into one. I wanted her to melt her body so much inside mine, that I would wake up the next morning thinking I was Holly, with no memory of my own identity.
‘Thrust it deeply inside me, Wendy,’ she said in a loving whisper.
I guided her to lie down on a soft bean bag, her tanned firm body looking so gorgeous against the soft blue material, and I stroked the toy over her sweet skin. I kissed her lovely trim stomach, and trailed my tongue along the insides of her soft thighs — trying to give her warm kisses of expectation, promises of the release to come — and I could feel the arousal rise in her body.
‘You were so kind to me in the office,’ I said, my eyes filling with gratitude, ‘when the others were so cruel. You talked to me on the first day when no-one else could care less. And you kept talking to me, and taking care of me all the days since.’
‘And I still want to take good care of you,’ she whispered back, as she luxuriated under my caressing hands.
‘I love you so much, I want to be you,’ I said softly as I caressed her soft skin. I slid the toy slowly over her clit, and my heart swelled with gratitude as I saw a look of pleasure light up her beautiful face.
I cradled her head protectively in my arm, and guided the toy towards her tight pussy lips.
‘I want to take such good care of you, honey,’ I whispered into her ear as her tight body slowly took the toy inside. ’I want to be the best friend and lover you could ever have.’
She trailed her elegant fingers over my arms as she looked back up at me. I began to move the huge toy faster in and out of her trim body, and I could sense her muscles tense up around it. She squirmed her hips around in a circle, to melt into my thrusts.
‘So, you’ve — finally — kissed — a girl,’ she gasped back at me as her climax neared. Her beautiful eyes were wide open with surprise at how intense the sensations were that I was creating inside her. I moved the toy faster and faster. ’I hope —,’ she gasped, ‘it was — as good — oh, God! — as good — as you — expected?’
Her orgasm erupted and she screamed out loud, a cry full of joy and fulfillment. Her hands clasped my shoulders desperately as she shuddered, and her eyes closed with pleasure.
‘Oh, it was far better than that — I loved it,’ I whispered as I cradled her delicate warm body, and tenderly brushed my lips over hers. ‘And now… your delicious kiss has unlocked something beautiful inside me.’
In fact I loved it so much, we didn’t leave that hotel room for two weeks as we explored each other’s yearning naked bodies with hot, slow, wet and passionate kisses.
THE END

“They’re worried, Loren. Renson doesn’t need this kind of publicity right now.” The voice on the other end of the phone belonged to Heather, my assistant. “How do we get ahead of this?”
I huffed as I stared at the headline in front of me. Our client, Renson Foods, was in the middle of a takeover deal that would move them into the top-end catering business. They were on the up, and they had always played to their reputation as a caring, family business. I had to admit, a story like this could ruin them if it wasn’t handled the right way.
“Is it true?” I asked, taking a sip of coffee. Black, strong, bitter; the way I liked it.
“Does it matter?”
“It might. Find out if it’s true, and for Christ’s sake find out if his wife cares. If she doesn’t, we can use the behind closed doors defence. Might even be able to get some ordinary people to come out in his favour. A lot care more about privacy than they do about stories like this.”
“His wife doesn’t strike me as the type to—”
“People wear masks,” I said, cutting her off, not wanting to go into details. All couples had their private lives, kinks they only shared with each other. Women who love to masturbate behind the safety of closed doors. Men who get off on fulfilling their partners sexual fantasies. Samson and I certainly did, and if he’d been caught in the same situation as Gerald Renson, it wouldn’t necessarily be without my permission. Our sex life was our business. “Find out if she cares.”
“OK. I’m on it.”
“I’ll be in at eleven. I have a couple of errands to run first. Arrange a meeting with Gerry Renson for this afternoon or at least a phone conference.”
“Will do.”
We signed off, and I scanned the rest of the story. It was lurid, but that was to be expected. The tabloids loved a good scandal, all the better if it involved sex. If we were lucky, it could all blow over in a day or two.
I drew a deep breath, hoping the story wasn’t going to cause any lasting damage. He wasn’t a politician or a film star, just a filthy rich businessman who was a lot more selfish than the public persona he liked to project. I didn’t like him, but I didn’t have to. I’d do my job as I always did.
I took a bite of toast as I started turning pages through the newspaper, scanning headlines, then paused at a small black and white photograph, attached to an unassuming story about a startup firm that had just secured funding. The young man in the photograph had his arm around a very pretty girl, and I found myself going back over the story to find out who she was to him. Just a business partner? Or more than that?
Frustratingly, the story didn’t say.
Did I see myself in her? More importantly, did he see a younger version of me when he looked at her? Same dark hair, same shaped face. It wasn’t exactly like looking in a mirror, but she certainly could have been a relative. A younger sister, maybe, or a close cousin.
How long had it been since he and SJ split up? Three years? It was good to see him doing well, I told myself, as I pushed the newspaper aside and went back to my coffee. I no longer had any appetite for toast.
***
And this must be the boyfriend I’ve heard so much about?
Samson’s words when SJ first introduced us to Theo rang in my head. I shivered as I remembered the way our eyes had met. The way I’d been forced to squeeze my legs together in a vain attempt to stem my body’s reaction. How could a single glance be so erotic?
Dad, meet Theo. Theo, this is my dad. And my stepmother, Loren. She’s wicked, but not in an evil way.
The blush rose to my face even after so many years, remembering SJ’s goofy attempt at a joke, and the embarrassed laughter from his dad and Theo. Who even used the word ‘wicked’ anymore? But he’d always been the weird kid, first in high school, then in college, the same at university. Lame jokes were kind of his thing, and I supposed they were a part of the charm for the men who always fell for him. Certainly, he’d never had a shortage of boyfriends since he came out to his dad and me all those years before.
But until Theo, none of them had ever turned my head.
He wasn’t even handsome. Not conventionally, anyway; not in the way that my husband was handsome. Samson was tall and broad, with a jaw that could cut paper. Accountants were supposed to be nerdy and weak, but my husband could press nearly 300 lbs and he filled out a suit like some sort of superhero. I was a very lucky woman, and I knew it.
Theo, on the other hand, stood out in a different way. Mousy hair past his ears, parted in the centre. Tall and slender, not unattractive but somehow unmatched to his face, the set of his jaw, the cheekbones, the brow. You expected to see muscle where there wasn’t any, expected rough hands where his were smooth, expected clumsiness where he was refined. Almost like he had been put together from spare parts.
Even his voice was off-kilter somehow, like it belonged to someone else and he was just borrowing it for the evening.
So why couldn’t I get him out of my head?
***
I found my hand drifting down my body as I thought about him. At first, all I was doing was smoothing my dress, but my flesh tingled as my fingers stimulated each inch. Between my breasts, down my belly, between my legs. I drew a sharp breath at the jolt of electricity that made me squirm and my eyes drifted closed.
Straightening in my chair, I teased my inner thigh with my fingertips, lifting the hem of my dress, playing with the lowest button.
As I bit into my lower lip, my breath coming harder, I spread my legs, pushing back from the breakfast table as I grazed nervous fingers along the lacy top of my stocking.
***
Loren, would it be OK for Theo to come for Easter? His parents are away and—
It would be a pleasure. I’ll make up a double room for you both.
My fingers moved higher, tantalizingly close to my sex as I thought about those two weeks. Theo had lasted longer than any of SJ’s previous boyfriends. Nearly two months after we first met him in the restaurant, there he was in my house, just a single wall separating us each night. It was wrong for me to fantasize about him. He was my stepson’s lover. He was fifteen years younger than me. But I couldn’t help myself. When Samson was late getting home one night, I lay on top of the sheets, my knees wide, and stroked my fingers up and down my slit until I came with Theo’s name on my lips. Then, as soon as Samson returned, I tore his clothes off and barely contained the screams as I took him hard. I was a woman possessed, and my husband did not complain about the attention.
Days in the office were spent trying to distract myself, evenings were spent trying to avoid meeting Theo’s eyes. Even a glance and I found my nipples tightening. Even the briefest touch of his hand as I passed him coffee or condiments made my pelvic muscles clench.
On my day off, I used housework as a distraction. We had a cleaner, the place was spotless, but that didn’t matter to me. I scrubbed the kitchen. I hoovered the stairs. I cleaned my own bedroom, followed by the office and the two smaller guest bedrooms until I couldn’t justify any more.
And then I found myself outside their room.
I told myself to ignore it. SJ was always a clean kid anyway, and I had no right to go snooping. If I found sex toys or lube it would only lead to awkwardness between us. After all, he was bound to know someone had been in there. Was I even sure they weren’t in there right now? I knocked lightly on the door.
No answer.
***
Dragging myself out of the memory, I shuddered and pulled my hand out from between my legs, putting my dress back in place, my face hot. “Get to work, Loren,” I told myself. “You can do without this distraction right now.”
But I didn’t move. I sat there, remembering, my foot shaking up and down as I crossed and re-crossed my legs. When I pulled the newspaper back in front of me, and saw his smiling face, I huffed and licked my lips, spreading my legs again and pulling the dress up to my hips as I stroked a tentative finger over the front of my panties. I shuddered and squeezed my legs together, almost crying out but managing to contain myself. My pussy tingled, my clit burned. I stroked my hand over the elastic at my leg, teasing myself with the idea of slipping a finger beneath as my other hand absently moved to my breast, massaging, kneading, imagining he stood behind me, an arm over my shoulder.
Unable to contain myself any longer, I unfastened three buttons at the top of my dress. Samson worked late the night before, and would sleep until lunchtime. The cleaner wouldn’t be in until later. I was alone, so why not enjoy it?
Thinking of Theo, I slipped my other hand inside my dress, pushing my bra cup aside and grazing a finger over my nipple, making it tighten. I imagined seducing him, my stepson’s boyfriend, and leading him back to my bed. So taboo, to strip his clothes from his body, to push him down onto the mattress and climb on top, to lead as he hardened, to put his cock inside me and claw at his flesh as he moaned.
I let out a little mewl of excitement as I rubbed my hand over my pussy, feeling the rush of need as the smooth fabric of my panties moved against my lips, growing damp as I worked my own flesh, both between my legs and at my breast.
Throwing my head back, I finally gave in to my own temptation and slid my hand down under the waistband of my panties, feeling the tickle of fine hairs against my wrist as my fingers found my dampened labia, slick with my own juice. I rolled my hips as I played, one hand inside my panties, the other inside my bra, my breathing growing faster with every stroke.
***
The memory of that day in their room, when I convinced myself that it was OK to just go in, change their sheets, and leave again, came back to me as I closed my eyes. I could still see the edge of the curtain flapping in the fresh breeze through the open window, could still smell the lingering scent of body spray and incense. Perhaps that should have alerted me, but at the time I just indulged my senses, and then set about pulling the duvet out of its case.
Until I heard it.
Soft humming. That country-sounding pop song that was popular at the time. My own heartbeat, increasing in rhythm.
It wasn’t SJ. It was Theo.
As my fingers moved inside my panties, teasing my own flesh, I thought about the sound of his voice that day. So light, so soft. Somehow, the voice that simply shouldn’t have belonged to him was perfect in those acoustics. It was melodic, ancient, coming through from another place. How he hadn’t heard me enter was a mystery, as was the question of why he was there on his own. None of that mattered. As I heard the first splashes of water, I turned to the en-suite bathroom and it was like the mirror had been placed there just for me.
It was wrong. I should have fled. I shouldn’t have stayed, watching, as he stood under the shower, mercifully facing away from me, the glass of the cubicle getting steadily more obscured as the water streamed over his head, his shoulders, his back.
Remembering the way my heart had thundered made my pulse race as I thought about him, and I shifted in the chair, almost willing my former self to get out of there before the inevitable happened; before he turned under the water, the view of his body only slightly obscured by the condensation.
Soft abdominal muscles, barely defined, led the way down beneath his chest, a centre line like an arrow, unavoidable as my eyes followed. Trimmed pubic hair, shaped into a wide, short triangle, and then that cock. Even flaccid, he was well endowed. It shifted between his legs, thick and heavy, as he stood under the shower, soapy water trickling down and falling from the tip.
***
I shoved my panties aside and ran my fingers through the folds of my pussy, spreading my lips, the scent of my own arousal strong now as I moved against my hand. The cooler air hitting my slit sent a shiver racing through my body, and I sighed as I clenched my stomach, lifting a leg up onto the breakfast table and finally pushing one finger, then two, inside my body, curling them against my sweet spot. Moaning with pleasure, I thrust my fingers in and out.
It wasn’t the first time since that day that I’d imagined Theo’s cock entering me as I masturbated. Despite only getting a glance before I fled, it was enough to feed my daydreams. I imagined gripping his shaft in one hand as I knelt before him, looking up into his eyes as I leaned forward and licked the tip, running my tongue around it as he hardened, then taking him into my mouth. I imagined the look of pure ecstasy on his face as I sucked him off, eyes locked on each other as his jaw clenched. Then his fingers tightening in my hair, encouraging me as I ran my tongue along the underside of his cock and swirled around the swollen head.
“Oh, fuck…” I sighed as I lifted my pelvis higher, fingers delving deeper as the old thoughts came flooding back. My stomach muscles clenched, sending a flood of arousal over my fingers. “Theo. Theo…”
***
Just leave them there, Theo.
I remembered the way his eyes had lingered that day, his arms full of used bedding. He must have known that I had been in there. We were the only two people in the house, and I had fled, leaving the duvet half out of its case. He had to know what I’d seen. I remembered the heat rising to my face, the question running through my head: should I say something? Apologise? Or act like nothing had happened to spare any awkwardness?
Somehow, the memory of that moment was more arousing than embarrassing. I masturbated, legs spread, pussy on full display, dress held together by only a few buttons, and I thought about the prickle of tension that had tightened my back, my shoulders.
I don’t mind.
He had to have noticed the blush spreading over my chest, up my neck. The way my nipples cut through my top at the double entendre. Did he even realise what he was saying? Did he know how his words could be taken to mean he didn’t mind what I’d done? But his expression was inscrutable. I didn’t even know if he had any interest in women, but my body’s reaction was hard-wired.
I’m not inexperienced. I can do it for you.
“Oh, fuck…” My fingers moved faster, my moaning getting louder as I pushed back against the chair.
It’s fine, just leave them there.
***
Holding my panties out of the way, I rubbed hard at my nub, no longer being cautious about the need in every sound I made, about the way my chair squeaked against the floor. I could smell my own musky-sweet scent and it only drove me on. Hiking my dress up around my waist, I stood and bent over the table, using it to steady myself as I spread my feet apart and delved into my soaked cunt. My mind grew more frantic, and as it did my sense of civility vanished. I imagined being forced down into the hard surface and taken from behind, my face pressed against the tabletop.
“Yes…” I moaned, little squeaking noises coming out between words. “Fuck me. Harder. Rougher. Take me. Like that. Right there.”
Two fingers pounded inside my tight warmth, and I wished I had a dildo to hand. Something big, something that would fill me, stretch me, make me cry out. I wanted to feel the shape of a cock taking me, and at that moment I didn’t care who it belonged to, or if it belonged to nobody at all.
“Harder. I want to feel your balls…slapping my thighs. Make me scream.”
I panted as I felt my orgasm building to a crescendo, and closed my eyes as I remembered.
***
Scalding hot water, as if it might wash away the dirty thoughts I’d been having. Gritting my teeth against the heat as I turned under the showerhead, trying to push away images of Theo, naked, frothing water dripping from his cock like cum.
***
The more I tried to forget, the clearer the memory became, and the more my arousal spiked. As I worked my fingers inside my cunt in the present, growing nearer and nearer to my peak, so I had done in the past, hoping that the release might calm me. I mewled as my pelvic muscles gripped and released, driving me insane with need. The coolness of the tabletop matched the coolness of the shower tiles that I had pressed my body against, closing my eyes as I struggled to breathe in the steam.
I raised my fingers and tasted my own fluids, letting the flavour spread over my tongue, then pushed my fingers back inside as I gripped my breast hard, crying out against the pain. In my mind’s eye, Theo had joined me in that shower. I no longer cared that it hadn’t really happened. His arms wrapping around my core, lifting me against the wall of the shower, shoving his cock deep inside me.
Loren. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.
Harder. “Harder.”
I’m close.
“Yes. So close.”
I imagined wrapping my legs around him, digging my heels into his ass as he thrust hard; once, twice, again, again. Both holding our breath together as our bodies stilled before tipping over into shuddering release.
***
I breathed a sigh as I slowed my movements, enjoying the tender sensation post-orgasm. Running my fingers up and down through the folds of my pussy made me moan. I was satisfied, it was enough. Just as it had been back then.
Putting my panties back in place and straightening my dress, I remembered stepping out of the shower, my skin pimpling in a cool breeze. Glancing across, I’d been puzzled by the open door leading through to the bedroom. Had I forgotten to close it?
Samson?
I’d wrapped a towel around me, fastening it in place over my breasts just as I fastened the buttons on my dress. But the bedroom was as I’d left it.
A knock on the door. Loren? It had been SJ’s voice. Me and Theo are going out. Don’t worry about dinner, we’ll get something for ourselves.
I smiled as I pulled the newspaper closer, looking down again at his face in the photograph. If the young woman was Theo’s girlfriend, I wished her well, wished them both well. SJ had grown tired of him a couple of weeks after that Easter break, and we hadn’t seen him since.
I finished off my coffee in a single gulp, then closed the newspaper and checked my online organiser. A note from Heather: Renson’s wife knows all about it, good thinking Loren. She had set the meeting with Gerry for 2pm, which gave me enough time to run my errands before trying to figure out how we would make this story yesterday’s news.
And somehow we would because everyone has their secrets—and if they harm nobody, then why shouldn’t they keep them?
The End

Can I just check this really is you?
I can confirm that this is the real me. This is the girl you smiled at when you came in just now.
Sorry. But I had to be sure. Because you could be the woman with the purple laptop or the man with all those files on the table next to him who keeps checking his phone every minute.
Oh I wonder what is going on there? Do you think he’s having an affair? Or doing some dodgy business deal? Anyway, I’m neither of them. Besides, how would they have got your number?
They could’ve picked up that note I left for you the other day. I guess I’m a bit nervous. I can’t believe you’re actually texting me right now!
You don’t need to be nervous. Relax, take your time.
Thanks. Sorry. All this is a first for me…
…I can tell that! So what was your food like?
Great thanks. I went for the mushroom omelette. You not eating?
Not today. Just a coffee.
BTW I love your top. It looks great. I could even see the small of your back when I came in. A welcome flash of flesh.
I’d hoped you’d notice it?
You wore it for me?
Don’t sound surprised.
Wow. Unbelievable. I’d no idea.
You honestly had no idea that I fancied you and wanted to wear something that might catch your attention?
Gosh. I’m truly surprised to hear that. But thanks! And I guess you knew I fancied you?
I didn’t need to be Sherlock Holmes to work that out!
Sorry. Was it that obvious?
No need to apologise
Anyway, your top looks even better from the front—the way the fabric seems to fold over your chest…
Do you mean my breasts?
Yes.
Well say it then! No need to be shy.
OK. The top hugs your breasts in the most fabulously stylish way. It shows off your figure brilliantly. You always wear the most amazing clothes.
That’s good to know. I try hard to find outfits that work. Tell me your favourites.
I really liked that little leather skirt you wore on Tuesday.
What did you like about it?
The way it rode up your legs and showed your thighs when you sat down. That little split at the side made it even hotter.
Do you remember anything else I wore that day?
Of course. The ankle boots. The roll-neck sweater. The bangles on the wrist. I like the way they jangled when you moved your arms.
I like that too. You didn’t go for the outfit I expected.
Well, I thought I’d work up to that one. Wednesday?
Well of course. I hoped you’d appreciate it.
You didn’t choose that with me in mind, did you?????
Of course I did!!! Though I took a risk as sometimes you don’t always get down here on Wednesdays.
We have a fortnightly Teams meeting with a business in Poland and they can run over my lunch break. They like the sound of their own voices. I’m sorry.
You don’t need to apologise all the time.
Sorry…
There you go again! So, let’s go back to Wednesday, what did you like about it?
It was fucking amazing? Oops, was that ‘fucking’ all right?
Relax. It’s OK. And fucking in every sense of the word is absolutely, 100% all right with me. All right?
Yeah.
Back to Weds…
Right, well… Weds was just the best. Let’s start with when you came in.
I’d really hoped you’d get here first. That’s why I was five minutes later than normal. I wanted you to enjoy my little show.
Well I fucking did. It was that initial look—long purple coat to your calves. That in itself was a statement, and then those boots in a matching colour. Those were serious heels. You looked like you’d just come off the catwalk.
Perhaps I had…
I thought you might be a model!
I do a bit here and there. And some other stuff… a little bit naughtier and a lot more fun.
I’d like to hear more about that.
Let’s save that for another time. Now—back to Wednesday.
It was the moment that you took your coat off. You did it is such a sensuous and stylish way. The coat traced this circle around you and then the way you just threw it, casually on the chair opposite…
Remind you of anything?
I don’t know if I should say this…
You should. Say it.
A striptease?
Nice. I like to strip…
There are few things I like to watch more…
Do you prefer to watch a strip or porn?
Tough one. I like porn too, the right stuff, you know—women behind the camera as much as in front—but a strip is such fun.
I couldn’t agree more. So, you liked the coat, what else did you like?
Well, you looked just so bloody hot. That leopard skin blouse. Your hair tumbling over your shoulders and those boots. Those fucking boots. Over your knees. They made your legs look so long. So slender.
Can I ask you a more personal question?
Go for it.
Did my look make you hard?
Wow. That’s some question!
I hope I’ve not offended?
Course not. Fuck yes, you did make me hard. Hard at the time and hard that night when I lay in bed thinking of you.
Did you wank while thinking of me?
Would you mind if I did?
Not in the least. In fact, I like the idea. I’ve wanked while thinking about what I’d do to you while wearing those boots. Tell me, are you hard now?
After what we’ve just been discussing? Of course I fucking am.
So, tell me, what would you like to do to me next?
Well, I’d like to see a bit more of you and then… you know.
No I don’t know. Tell me.
I’m never too good at these things. My mind tends to go a bit blank at the crucial moment.
I understand. Many people are the same. You’d be surprised. Perhaps I could help a bit?
That would be great.
OK, so come with me on a journey. Let me set the scene. We are in a darkened room. There’s a spotlight on a chair. There’s a circle of lights around us. It could be a studio, a film set, or it might be a stage with an audience. You choose. All right so far?
I’m fine. Rather enjoying you leading the way.
I thought so. So, who is on the chair—you or me?
I don’t know.
OK. Let’s leave it empty. You’ve just come from a really smart event. You’re in a white shirt with your bow tie hanging loose round your neck. You sit facing the chair and wait. It’s now that I make my entrance. I’m in that leopard skin top and those over-the-knee purple boots. I walk towards you. Really slowly…
…there’s purpose in your walk. And I hear the slow, rhythmic click of those heels on the floor. Confident. Controlled.
Brilliant. You’re getting the hang of this sexting chat. You take it from here. What do I do next?
You walk around the chair. It’s more like a strut. You’re showing me that you’re the one in charge.
I like that
You walk over to me, flip up your dress, flashing your butt at me
Cheeky. Nice start. Go on.
You grab the ends of my bow tie, pull me up and throw me onto the spot-lit chair, just as you did your coat back in the café the other day.
Great stuff. You’re making me out to be very dominant.
I’m beginning to think I like it when a woman takes charge.
It’s hot.
Bloody hot. You lean into me. I feel your boot on my thigh. You run your fingers across a cheek. They’re at once gentle and strong. You glide behind me and toss your hair over my face. I smell your perfume.
What do I do next? Think of those boots…
You sit on my lap. Lean back and extend your legs so I can see the boots in all their glory.
Can I take back control from here as I think you’d like it more.
Would being in charge turn you on?
I’m fucking turned on right now. But it would ramp it up nicely.
Well…over to you.
I swing from my hips. There’s music in my head. Jazz. Raunchy jazz. I move to the imagined rhythm. I pull your bow tie from your neck, slap it—whip like—on your legs and then use it to bind your hands behind your back. You willingly comply. And then I dance in front of you, loosening the ribbons around the neck of my top, which begins to slip…
…I see a black camisole and matching G-string.
Slowly I remove my top and show you my butt.
As well as your arse, I see your naked back. But you are making sure that I can’t see those fabulous breasts of yours.
I’ve teased you enough. I turn, and I watch as your eyes feast on my tits. I hold up a boot. You kiss it reverentially. And I sit on your lap. Legs astride yours. Wide apart. I am opening myself for you. I press my breasts against your chest. Skin against skin.
Your nipples are hard as they brush against mine.
And they aren’t the only thing that’s erect. I grind my pussy into your groin. Your cock likes it. With each of my thrusts, it grows a little larger.
My cock is pushing up against my pants.
That bulge in your trousers is encouraging me. I kiss you and slip my tongue into your warm, welcoming mouth. You thrust back at my pussy, and sensing your eagerness, I slip off your lap.
Your move leaves me unshielded from the light. I’m momentarily dazzled. This hot, hot woman emerges from the brightness, kneeling at my feet. An angel? A devil?
Perhaps a bit of both?
To prey upon me or to honour me? This angel, this devil, puts her hands on my knees and looks deeply into my eyes. She can see right into my sexual soul. She can read my every desire. My every need.
And right now I know that you need me to suck your cock. Slowly I unzip you and take the very tip of your cock into my mouth.
Your tongue circles it, drawing out my pre-come. You purr.
I run my tongue up the underside of your shaft, ticking your frenulum and look into your eyes.
I gaze back. This is fucking intense.
It is. But keep focussed on the scene we are creating.
OK.
I pull away to take a proper look at your cock. Fucking hell! It’s bloody glorious. Thick and oh so wonderfully long.
How the fuck did you know?
I guessed… but stay with me with this as I’m going to love playing with it.
I’m pretty sure he’s going to love playing with you, too.
I’m getting really wet. I love that moist feeling as my anticipation builds. But my pussy will have to wait a little longer, first, I need to tease both of us a bit more.
Take your time. I’m enjoying this.
I take your magnificent dick in my mouth. I can feel it pulsating as it grows harder, longer, thicker. I slide my lips all the way to the base of your shaft. It’s a longer journey than I am used to. I can only just take you in. Your skin is so soft. But your shaft is so hard. I like that contrast.
Your lips are fucking amazing.
Have I got the pressure right? Would you like it a bit harder?
Oh yes.
Like this.
Firmer.
Now shift your focus from my lips to my tongue. It’s circling the very tip of your helmet, and I can taste the saltiness of your pre-come.
Fucking hell… I want to come.
Oh, but you can’t come yet. We’ve only just started. And what about me?
Of course. I was getting carried away. So, you pull your head away from my cock, and sit on my lap. Rub your cunt against my cock.
I’m getting really moist.
And I can feel that wetness through the material. You go down on me one more time before stepping out of your G-string.
I stand in front of you, naked, apart from my boots. Do you like what you see?
You look totally sensational. Glorious in your heels. A powerful, confident dominatrix. My eyes check out your pussy. It’s as smooth as the PVC of your boots. I love shaved pussies.
Me too.
You stand astride me and, inch by inch, ease me into your pussy. I have to check myself. Since I first saw you walk into the café this is what I’ve longed for. I seek out little details that will help me recall this precious moment. The way you control my entry, gripping my shaft with your pussy. The way your nipples brush against my chest. Your hair on my face. The taste of my prick on your mouth as we kiss. The coolness of your boots against my thighs. The tenderness of your fingers on my neck.
I thrust up and down. Riding your cock. Then I grab your hand and slap it against my arse. You need to show a firm hand when you are riding!
I pick up your cue and spank both your butt cheeks.
The pain pushes me on, and I respond by picking up the rhythm. I thrust faster. You mirror my motion and the chair rocks.
Your heels click. We sound like horses galloping.
But I rein it in. The rocking calms and morphs into a kiss. Then I feel an urge to take you into my mouth again. This time I taste my juices on you. Fuck I love that.
You turn round and push your arse into my lap, and then you slide me into your cunt, and I can at last get my hands on your clit.
Oh, my clit had been desperate to feel those fingers of yours. And as we fuck I can feel myself getting deliciously wet. And I sense I need to come really soon. Can I take over and use my own touch?
Of course.
There are a few things I like more than wanking. But one of them is wanking while I am being fucked by this guy who has the biggest of cocks.
You frig yourself for a while, then pull away. You want something else. Something more.
I want you to lick me. So I stand with a booted leg on the chair and present my pussy for you to eat.
I kneel and run my tongue up your lips, then trace circles around your clit.
Fucking amazing. Keep going.
I try to move my tongue as gently as possible. I barely make contact with your clit.
Oh yes. But stronger, please.
My tongue is firmer, bolder. Your clit is a slippery knot, tightening under my licks.
You better stop, or I’ll come, and I don’t want to come yet.
What do you want me to do?
Take control.
I flip you around and bend you over the chair. I spank your arse, then enter you from behind. I thrust my cock deep inside you. Then pull my whole length out, super slowly. My cock stretches your cunt as it withdraws. It shines with your juices, and I feel compelled to re-enter you to re-coat it.
Oh do that again, please. I love it.
I penetrate you again. Then start to pump you. My hand slides around, and I strum your clit. Gradually I pick up speed and pump you faster. My fingers move in time, and your body begins to tense. You grip me tighter with your wonderful cunt, and I hear a faint moan. Your pleasure is contagious. You are pushing both of us closer to coming.
I lean back into you and push against your thrusts, increasing the pressure inside me. I’m edging towards an explosion.
Go on, relax into it and fucking come.
My orgasm is intense. It pulses from my pussy down my legs and bounces off my heels down into the balls of my feet.
I feel your pussy spasming through my cock. And it’s sensational.
And now it’s your turn. I sit you down. Cup your balls in my hand and take you into my mouth once again. Your cock is coated in my come. I bob up and down. It’s now my turn to pick up speed.
You rub me on your breasts then, with a really firm hand, wank me against them. You hold me tighter and pump me faster, and I let go.
I want you to come on me. I want to feel your warm spunk splash onto my skin.
Yes. Yes. Yes
Where do you want to come?
Your breasts.
That was quick.
With breasts like yours… it’s a no-brainer.
I want that jizz on my tits right now. You’re moaning. It’s a sound that has its origin deep within you. It gets louder as your spunk shoots up your shaft and it morphs into a gasp, a cry as it flows from your helmet. It coats my nipple and runs down my hand down your shaft onto your balls.
You stand up. Kiss me one last time. Look me in the eyes. Turn and walk off into the darkness.
Because that’s what a dominant woman can do.
So, is that it?
Did you enjoy it?
Fucking amazing. But I have to get back to work. Somehow I have to think about internet security protocols. I should have been back a few minutes ago. There’s a big meeting and I’m presenting. But thank you, thank you, thank you. That was truly sensational.
Indeed it was.
By the way I have paid for your coffee.
Very kind. But you really shouldn’t have.
I’ve been wanting to buy you a coffee for weeks. Just couldn’t work up to asking.
How sweet. But I hope you’ve found your voice now.
I sure have. And thank you again. I can’t believe what we’ve just bloody done. BTW, you know, you said at the start I could choose the setting—whether we were on a stage or in a studio?
Oh yes, I’d forgotten.
Well, I couldn’t think at the time, but now I can. I think this was a film set.
Nice. And, can I leave you with one final thought?
Of course.
Flat 4, 128 Keller Strasse.
It’s my address. I think we should do it for real next time. I’ll be wearing those boots. Just bring your cock.
And a camera?
The End

She grabbed my attention the very first time I saw her. Heels on the high side—skirt on the short side. Long legs—tight arse. And brown, talk-to-me eyes. A walking sexual fantasy.
She carried herself with the poise and elegance of an older woman but she could barely have been thirty. And she had the confidence of a model—she dressed like someone who has strutted down the catwalk. Her jackets and coats were really well cut—the designs weren’t those you saw in high street shops.
As well as elegance and style, she was sharp. You could also see she listened very carefully to those around her. Only those with a fair bit of emotional intelligence listen like that.
I first saw her in a coffee shop. She was in front of me in the queue so I discovered that her name was Daisy from the paper cup the barista wrote on.
Daisy was probably the hottest woman I’d ever met, or am ever likely to meet. If you asked me which women in the whole world I’d like to fuck and I had the choice of absolutely anyone, I’d choose Daisy. And, after what happened next, I would choose her again, and again, and again.
I bumped into her in the town outside what I thought was her office a couple of days later. It was totally contrived. I’d walked up and down near that cafe for the best part of an hour and managed to walk straight into her, seemingly by accident. There was a spark between us, that burst of energy I felt whenever I saw her, I knew how it wasn’t just my imagination.
“I’m sorry, I…” she started to apologise for my clumsiness.
“No, it was totally, my…” I took over but stopped when our eyes locked. Yes, yes, her pupils dilated and she looked as startled as I felt by the static that buzzed between us.
“Here,” I said, wanting to brush down her beautiful camel coat. I reached out but stopped short of the fabric, opting to chance an invitation instead. “Let me make it up to you.”
We paused again, knowing full well an apology invitation was unnecessary.
Her hand brushed against mine and that look passed between us again. Like we knew each other from somewhere but unless she’d seen me behind her in the coffee queue, we’d never met. But I felt it too. A familiarity. A strange cosmic history. We lingered for a few moments too long and it was teetering on awkward when she graciously spoke.
“I know a café, does the most perfect espresso lungi.”
I gulped in surprise—I was not expecting her to invite me!
“That sounds splendid, please lead the way.”
And she actually held her arm out for me to take. It was surreal and the most natural thing in the world. Our steps matched, there was none of that, feeling like you’re in a three-legged race and the rhythm is wrong, with twisted ankles and bashed up bones. No none of it. I smiled at the comparison. I’ve often felt at odds with those I walk with, I’ve never managed quite to match somebody else’s gait. But somehow… we fit.
As the waitress brought us identical coffees with an iced water chaser, we thanked her at the same time, causing us to smile and catch each other’s gaze again.
“So what do you do? Um… sorry I don’t even know your name.”
“Oh, yes, pleased to meet you, I’m Jonathon.” I jovially held out my hot hand and a shiver went down my spine as she took it in her cool one, shaking firmly yet somehow delicately. It was like a magic trick.
“Pleased to meet you too, I’m Daisy.”
I tried to appear like I didn’t know that already. “Oh what a lovely name,” I declared hoping it sounded natural enough.
“Excuse me for asking, but I feel like I know you from somewhere…” her brow furrowed in the most beautifully quizzical way. “Do I?”
I tilted my head to the side, looking skyward to wrack my brains. “You know, I feel the exact same way but for the life of me, I can’t think where.”
She nodded, seeming to relax and let out a long breath. My senses pricked for a second but she eased us back into the conversation.
“Do you work locally Jonathon?”
“Yes, but unfortunately for me, for a bunch of absolute wankers as it turns out.” The shock as the word echoed around the room was evident by the look that crossed her face. “Oh god, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so crass, I’ve just had a particularly trying day, I don’t usually speak like that!”
I hoped I’d fixed it, her face had turned dark, and the tip of her tongue darted out, and slicked her plump lips.
“Shame…” she said and took a sip of her coffee.
What? What? My nerves were tingling all the hairs on the back of my neck were standing. Was she giving me the come on? Did she want me to talk dirty? I couldn’t think of anything to say so I just lifted my own cup.
“I love words. All words. From colloquial to filthy, they completely fascinate me.” She smiled. “Take ‘wanker’ for instance. It’s a wonderful word to describe an utter bellend of a colleague…”
I couldn’t argue with that.
She paused and carefully placed the cup back in its saucer, twisting it slightly then took her focus right back to me, holding my gaze as she spoke.
“But for the act, it simply doesn’t do it justice.”
I spluttered. What, the act of wanking?
“Yes, wanking.” As if she’d heard me! “Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Well, I…” actually, I did agree. “It is rather a harsh word…”
She nodded. Apparently satisfied with my answer.
“What would you prefer?” I asked, feeling rather daring.
Daisy eagerly picked up the baton.
“What about simply, masturbating?”
I recoiled. I never liked that word.
“No. Too squelchy or something.”
She hooted with laughter. “Well, for some of us it is squelchy,” she said with a wicked grin on her lips, “if it’s going really well…” She winked.
God, what was I getting myself into?
I was hoping to be steering the conversation up the sexual path, with her eagerly following me, but here we were and it was she, practically dragging me! I was feeling a little out of my depth.
I took control of myself and decided that we ought to take this conversation to somewhere a little more grown-up.
I held out my hand and we walked to the bar across the road, ordering the exact same drink again. Two Manhattans came our way.
By the time we had started on our second cocktail, she confessed that her best ever time masturbating was when it was being filmed.
“Really?” I was back to being the blithering public schoolboy, all flustered and ridiculous. Again, I took a breath and composed myself. “Tell me, Daisy,” I slowly leaned into her ear and whispered, “are you trying to shock me?”
She seemed to squirm a little and as I retreated, I watched a flush rise on her décolleté.
It didn’t take long for her to regain her composure and she picked the cocktail stick from her glass and slid the cherry between her lips, easing it off with her teeth. Pocketing the fruit in one cheek as she spoke.
“Maybe…”
I shuffled on the barstool and adjusted my tie sensing that this conversation was about to get blisteringly hot.
“Who filmed it?”
I felt her foot touch the inside of my calf. “Nobody, I filmed it by myself, just for me.” She twisted the stem of her glass and caressed the rim with her beautifully manicured fingertips.
“It was amazing, to fuck myself on camera, riding wave after wave of orgasm.” She licked her lips. “It was almost too intense.”
I asked if this was something she’d put on social media. I was rather afraid of the answer. I kind of hoped to see the film but was strangely jealous that others might have seen it already.
“I uploaded it to a porn site.,” she said in a very matter-of-fact way while looking straight into my eyes.
“I don’t believe you.”
Daisy held out, teasing me back with mock coyness.
Eventually, she laughed and pulled her tablet out of her bag. Shifting our barstools closer, she tilted the tablet so I could see the screen. Quickly checking no-one else in the bar was looking, she put in her password and brought up a browser and opened a tab. She quickly found the site and flicked through a few windows, selected a video and brought up the play button. Raising her eyebrows, she passed me the device and beckoned me to start the film.
I touched play.
There she was, reading a magazine while lying back in an armchair. The title of the journal, ‘The Amorist’, gave a clear indication of what might follow.
Her first move was to stroke her left breast through her blouse, and then she slipped her hand under it, easing it free to reveal a studded right nipple.
I pressed pause and looked at her. Daisy had a big grin as she looked at me in an I-told-you-so way. I asked if she still had the stud, and she raised her eyebrows again but said nothing. She returned her gaze to the screen and restarted the film.
She clearly liked touching her nipples and she caressed them until they were in a hardened state.
And then she dropped a hand and slid it under her skirt. She started to stroke her pussy through her knickers, and her body bent in response. One hand joined the other, and then, pulling her knickers to one side, she started to stroke her pussy lips. I could just hear her panting from the speaker on her tablet, or was that actually coming from her?
I nudged Daisy in the ribs and nodded in the wider direction of the room, and she hit the mute button. I told her that this was beyond hot and that there was no way I could stand up at the moment. She smiled cheekily at me.
On-screen, Daisy’s fingers were now on her clit and very slowly but firmly you could see that she was bringing herself to a climax. She eased an index finger inside her slit, and with her other hand, she rubbed her right nipple. It took a second finger in her pussy to tip her into a wave of orgasms.
I pressed pause once more and simply whispered, “Fucking hell, Daisy, that was a heck of a climax.”
“Nothing compared to what’s coming,” she said, her eyelids heavy, and lips fuller than before.
I pressed play again and saw her reach for one of those mains powered vibrators.
By now I had moved an arm around her back and was just about to enjoy even more of this film when Daisy glanced at her watch. Perhaps the physical contact jolted her and made her think again about what we were doing. She quickly hopped off the barstool, explaining that she’d lost track of time and had to go. She should have been home ages ago.
I tried to thank her for showing me the film, but the words didn’t flow. I didn’t want to speak—I just wanted the sex to continue on screen. I dearly wanted to see how she handled the vibrator and what it did to her.
Daisy kissed me lightly on the cheek and then packed away her tablet and stood up. It was abrupt, yet, not unkind in the slightest.
I asked for her mobile number and she wrote on a napkin in red lipliner pencil, folded it once and slid it across the bar.
“Jonathon, promise me you won’t breathe a word of this to anyone.”
“Of course,” I said, lifting her hand to place the most delicate kiss on her cool flesh. “You have my word.”
She smiled a little hesitantly, then she left. It was like a spell had been broken. I could only surmise that she’d felt sudden regret at revealing her secret to a perfect stranger.
Much later that night, I settled back in my chair with a nice glass of wine and reflected on the day’s events. If only I’d thought to take note of the website she’d showed me. I could have looked it up and finished watching her naughty film. I patted my shirt pocket, remembering I’d popped the napkin in there. Perhaps I could text her, reassure her that her secret was safe with me, and let her know how much I had enjoyed her company today. I really out to say something. Thank her for a lovely time. I pulled out the napkin and held it to my face, inhaling her lingering scent.
Unfolding it, I found that I was trembling as my fingers fumbled with the flimsy paper. Where I expected a name and mobile number, there was only hurriedly scrawled lettering. I read it more closely and my heart actually skipped a beat. A web address.
I held my breath as I grabbed my iPad and opened the browser, carefully adding each letter: ./films/woman-ex…e-real-orgasms/
My chest was almost bursting as I waited for the page to load and my cock swelled and stiffened when at last, there she was on my screen. Daisy, in all her sexy fucking glory. I could not believe it—it was so professional and beautifully shot. I hadn’t appreciated it at the time in the bar. She must have been lying about filming it herself and uploading it. The words to introduce the film confirmed my suspicions but she had been telling the truth about it being her first film. I couldn’t decide whether to watch it from the beginning or skip to where we’d got up to.
I settled on the latter and started to fast forward the film to where we had left off in the bar. I located the moment she picked up the vibrator and watched as she pushed it on her cunt lips.
She then began to thrust a finger in and out of her opening as she held the vibrator hard against her clit. This was the most intense wank and I wanted to join in myself.
My cock was out and I began to play with my helmet, teasing out my early emissions. As they bubbled over, I used my fingers to ease the lubrication down my shaft. The hardness I’d experienced in the bar earlier was back, and I was as firm as any guy could ever be. I knew that it would just take a few firm thrusts and I would come, but I wanted to savour this moment—and the memories of the meeting at the bar—for just a little longer.
I watched as Daisy thrust a finger deep inside her cunt, and as she pushed the vibrator hard against her clit her body began to shake and she virtually exploded. That was a pretty big orgasm. And to think I’d watched at least one of her earlier orgasms in the film already. I could now begin to understand why Daisy had said that it was this particular self-pleasuring session was her best.
Presuming Daisy was finally spent, I was about to rewind her orgasm so I could come alongside her with the second viewing when I realised that she hadn’t finished. This woman was astonishing. She was going to bring herself to yet another climax.
On screen she started to build herself up. Her sexual energy was beyond belief. Inserting two fingers into her pussy I noticed that she turned up the speed of her orgasm machine. This next one was going to blow her mind.
And I really had to come with her and share this moment of intense pleasure as best I could. Gripping my prick hard I hit my quickie rhythm. My thoughts were with Daisy and I was inside her, thrusting my shaft as deep as possible.
She was taking it all, and what I had to assume was her final orgasm began to ripple from her clit through her body. I heard her whisper “Oh God,” as she whacked the speed on the vibrator to maximum. She was over the edge.
Though I had no vibrator to help me reach my own climax, I was squeezing my cock tight—desperately close, but just wanted a moment more. I pressed pause and stopped stimulating my shaft. Finding some lube I’d brought through from my bedside drawer, I dribbled it on to my hard-on and slowly covered my entire length.
I rewound the film a few minutes and then re-watched Daisy bring herself to her magnificent ending. Knowing the moment that she turned the vibrator on to full was my cue, and I pushed myself over the brink and we came together. It was the best wank of my life and my ejaculate spurted out all over my hands and showered my legs. I was quite impressed with one drop that made it as far as my ankle.
I never did bump into Daisy again outside her office, it seemed it had only been a temporary arrangement. I had to content myself with her onscreen presence. As it turned out, she had quite a few starring roles and I took my time exploring every single one.
The End

Roleplaying was Victoria’s speciality. If you had a fantasy, she could reach into the wanton recesses of your imagination and bring it to life. No matter how filthy. No matter how sensual. It was her gift. One she was all too happy to fulfil when the young man had requested her a week prior.
Kristof. Such a lovely name to match his chiselled, handsome face. The moment Victoria saw him, she knew she had to have him. Light brown hair, blue eyes that leaned more towards a stormy grey, a strong brow, and cheekbones to die for. The look of him alone was enough to make her ache.
He’d watched a sex fantasy video it was a common one—an older woman—but the intriguing deliciousness came from his desire to play up a 1930s angle and to also photograph her. Now, there, some fun could unfold. Her mind had been buzzing all week over it. Sex wasn’t merely about getting off for her; it was a cerebral experience. Portraying characters. Dressing the part. Fulfilling desires. It was all a play and one where she would always have the starring role. What could be more exquisite?
And now their time had come.
“Don’t be nervous,” she said, smiling softly and sliding a hand over his thigh as they sat on a sofa. “Relax.”
He sighed and gave a little chuckle. It was endearing and sexy all at once. He didn’t look like a boy who lacked experience, but she could tell this particular situation was a first for him. How wonderful.
He struck a match against the small box and she leaned in; the flame taking to the cigarillo perched between her lips. The air was heavy with jazz and now the subtle, sweet hint of vanilla and tobacco. The smoke wafted around her in tendrils. Lingerie hugged her every curve as a long set of pearls dangled between her breasts. Her hair was swept up neatly in the fashion of the period. She knew she looked straight out of his fantasies. That was entirely the purpose. She’d worked hard to craft the room and take them both back in time.
Kristof rose and stood before her, his long, lithe fingers caressing the vintage camera as he began to snap photo after photo of his dream girl. A naughty little voyeur he was. But that’s okay. She liked to be watched. All eyes on her and no one else. Worshipped. Revered. Just as every woman should be.
The leather of the couch squeaked as she posed on her knees. Other than the music and the click of the shutter, it was the only sound in the room. She loved that, loved the way it made intimacy tangible and unspoken. Nothing existed except the two of them.
Her skin hummed as he drank her in. She smirked as she dropped the pale pink peignoir from her shoulders, revelling in the fact he couldn’t touch her. Not yet. The fantasy might be all his, but the control was all hers.
“This is for an art project, you said?” she asked, playing the role they’d discussed.
He licked his lips as their eyes met. “Yes, ma’am.”
Oh. How lovely that sounded on his lips. The ache in her core intensified. His voice was deep and melodic. How would he sound when she wrapped her cunt around his cock? Was he vocal? Or did he swallow his pleasure down?
“Your teacher must be very progressive.” She arched her back to show more of her barely covered backside and took another draw of the cigarillo. “Allowing for such risqué subject matter.”
The sweater he wore covered so much, but she could still see the outline of lean, taut muscle hidden beneath. She shifted position to sitting. Her nipples hardened against the fabric of her corset. The faint outline of his cock was becoming more visible. She itched to touch him, taste him, discover the sounds he made in the throes of a skilled mouth.
Once her curiosity was brimming over, Victoria opened her legs. The air became slightly cooler as it brushed against the wetness between them. Would he perhaps be able to detect her scent along with the smoke? She hoped. He swallowed, taking her in as his lips slightly parted.
“He’s very modern, ma’am.”
That’s it, pretty boy. Look at me.
Victoria was well-aware the sheer panties hid nothing from him. She didn’t want to hide. Few things made her as aroused as being watched, being lusted for. His finger pressed the button again, capturing her lewd pose and forever committing it to memory. She’d let him keep them. Perhaps the panties, too. If he earned it. If he made her come.
“My husband won’t be home for hours, you know.” She tucked her lip between her teeth and abandoned her cigarillo in the nearby ashtray.
Teasing was over. She needed him.
Crawling over, she fetched the camera and pulled him onto the sofa. He was all too eager to let it go. His excitement was palpable, stretching between their bodies like an aura.
“What if he comes home?”
Victoria grazed a finger down his cheek and leaned in close. “Let me worry about that.”
Their lips met. His cologne was a heavy but not overbearing woodsiness that enveloped her senses. Tongues slid against each other. Kristof kissed like a man who recognised the value of who he held, knew how to treat a woman.
She pulled away slightly and trailed a hand down his chest. The desire and curiosity to touch and feel him was becoming overwhelming. In the absence of a kiss, Kristof busied his mouth against her neck as his hands traversed her breasts. He moaned so exquisitely when she cupped his hardened cock through the fabric.
“Is this for me?” she asked.
He exhaled audibly. “All for you, ma’am.” He gazed up at her, the softness of submission all over his graceful face. “You’re so beautiful.”
Smiling, she kissed him again, her hand never leaving his thick, warm cock. Time melted away as they explored one another. The music, the atmosphere, putting a spell on her, too. She straddled his lap.
“You’ve been so good,” she said, grinding herself atop him. “Do you want more?”
He gripped and massaged her ass, urging her on. “Please, Miss Victoria.”
His voice was so sensual and breathy. Who could deny it? “Touch me.” She lifted his hands to her breasts.
His eyes sparkled. Victoria continued to rock atop him as he pulled the cups of her lingerie down. Those lips around her nipples were nothing short of inspired. The way he caressed with his tongue and sucked … She had to bite her lip and stand to stay in control. Their silence added to the thrill of the moment.
Swaying, she worked her panties off. Being a tease felt so powerful, so heady. He reached out and touched her appreciatively, but otherwise was a good boy. She would allow it. She was in charge. He knew that. He’d wanted that. The look of eagerness was written all over his handsome face. It made her want to slow down, take her time, and make him squirm. A younger man begging for her attention had a power all its own, unique and intoxicating.
With another kiss, she unbuckled his belt, lowered the zipper, and pulled his trousers off. His cheeks blushed as if he was ashamed to be so hard. Delicious. As their lips met again as she straddled a leg. They were both exposed.
“It’s so nice to have a little pet to play with,” she mused with a smirk.
Impatience won out as he reached around her thigh to fondle her cunt. His mouth found her breasts once more, supping and nibbling. She moaned. She knew the type—a good, decent boy until you get him naked and then he’s insatiable. They were some of her favourite clients. Cocky was overrated. She liked obedience and worship. Men who knew their place and longed to be in it.
Her folds slipped against the muscle of his thigh. His cock was thick, heavy against her palm. So gorgeous and uncut. Even his sac was beautiful. She raked her nails through his trimmed hair and grabbed his cock. “Why me and not some young, blonde co-ed?” she questioned.
“None of the girls at my school know what they’re doing.” He smiled up at her, his lips parting in a silent moan. “Not like you.”
Satisfied with his answer, she smirked and lowered her head, sucking him in immediately. Stiff and fleshy, she worked her tongue around him. Yes, she was the one bent over, but his pleasure was at her mercy. Her hand moved in tandem with her mouth. Strands of saliva followed her mouth as she lifted off to tease him. His hips rose ever so slightly. This was why she enjoyed blowjobs so much.
The sounds Kristof made as she worked him were nothing less than rewarding. The sheer need he had for sensations only she could provide. A hand would be so imperfect, so unsatisfying after the hot cavern of her mouth. The slick motions of her tongue. She brought him to the edge and backed off.
He whined in need, moving to kiss her the moment it was allowed. “Let me taste you. Please,” he begged.
How could she ever deny him? Gingerly, they swapped places as he knelt before her. He wasted no time in pulling her forward and lapping at her slit. He drew his tongue up the middle part and down the sides. Over and over. It was as if he was tracing the shape of her pussy to his memory, locked away to be enjoyed once again later.
“That’s it,” she praised, stroking her fingers through his hair. She closed her eyes and let him devour her however he wanted.
A finger slipped slowly into her. He sucked her folds and then her clit between his ever greedy lips like a hungry slut. He was better than her best vibrator. Lust burned in her belly. Her cheeks and cunt flushed with heat. He knew what he was doing, and that knowledge was beyond sexy. Every woman deserved this. It was our birthright to be so exalted, to be enjoyed by a man who truly loved to give.
Nails raked against his scalp. Moans suffused the air around them. Her sounds spurred him on as his hand gripped her breast, massaging and pulling at her nipple. She whimpered at the edge of pain. Another finger joined the first inside her, opening her tightness even more.
She held his head. He pumped faster, deeper. What would it be like to play with him further? To blindfold him. To spank him. To mark his pretty skin. To pin him down with her knees and suffocate him with her pussy. Ideas and visions danced through her mind, her pleasure amped up by his thrusting. Her cries grew louder until her cunt clenched around his touch. Dripping, pulsing, her desire leaked from her spent hole.
She barely had a second’s pause before Kristof was sliding his bare cock against her drenched folds and teasing her entrance with its girth. Veins bulged in his hand as he gripped the base of his dick. Oh God. The moment he slipped in was pure bliss. His fingers had opened her up wonderfully, but this was something else entirely. This was divine.
Never taking his gaze from hers, his fingers busied themselves on his button-down as his hips pistoned slowly into her. His body was a masterpiece. Lean. Athletic. Chiselled. Reminiscent of a Roman statue. What woman wouldn’t want him between her opened thighs? He was a trophy, the deserved spoils of everyday life.
He leaned, taking her mouth once again. Her taste was briny on his lips and tongue as he fed it back to her before pulling away to play with her breasts. He caressed them like sweet peaches, then braced himself against the leather to push further into her. Victoria held her leg back, allowing deeper access.
“There you go. Show me how much you want it,” she whispered. Her hand slipped down to touch herself, snaking through the small strip of hair before circling her swollen clit.
This excited him and he fucked quicker, desperate to please her. He lifted her onto the arm of the sofa, then grabbed her ankles and began again. Slower now as they drank one another in. His hands soon found purchase on her abdomen and his pace hastened.
She loved how her breasts shook as he drove faster into her, reminding her what a whore she was. Even if she was in charge of the scene, even if this was her chosen profession in life, she still adored being the vessel for a man’s fantasy. Being the playground on which he explored his desires. Sexuality was multifaceted, and hers was no different.
His cock hit every sweet spot inside her. His mouth was humid against the tips of her breasts. Her cunt was so slick beneath her fingers. She wondered if he was watching. The sofa squeaked under her grip. She hoped he was. Heat blossomed in her stomach once again, melting down to her core as moans dripped from her lips.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” His hips never slowed as he leaned in, his tongue hot against her nipple. “Ah fuck, I’m so close,” he rasped.
She chuckled, opening her eyes. “Sit on the sofa, baby.”
He obeyed, slowly pulling out to switch positions. Victoria knelt before him. Expertly, she bobbed up and down between his gorgeous thighs, molesting his cock with her mouth. She loved the way her taste melted on her tongue.
But this just wouldn’t do. She needed more.
Abandoning his cock, she mounted and enveloped him completely. The look on his face was soul achingly erotic. His mouth opened into the perfect wanton O. Eyes clamped shut. His thighs shook under her. His hands roamed over her body, caressing every curve, dip, and hollow.
“You like that, don’t you?” Her teeth raked across her lip, then she licked the seam of his mouth. “Having an older woman use you for her pleasure?”
He smirked, and she got a deeper glance at the bad boy under his good boy exterior.
“Use your words.” She undulated atop him.
“Yes, ma’am, I do.” He sighed, hands roaming over her hips and ass. “I love it.” His touch found her clit, never abandoning it even when she began to bounce and grind, using him as a toy.
Their bodies met when he pulled her closer, enclosing her in his arms. “Please. Please give it to me,” he whispered, gripping his ass to goad her on.
The air around them once again became a mess of her moans. He placed a kiss between her breasts as she rode out her climax, coating his cock in her wetness. Lifting up, she moved back to the floor. She went straight to work, cleaning her lust from him and urging his own orgasm forth.
Her eyes met his. “You want to come for me, baby?”
He nodded, his chest rising and falling with each stroke of her hand. That’s it. His head fell back as he gripped her arm. She was so hungry for his come. Shuddering, his climax spilled into her waiting mouth, and she swallowed every drop of it.
“Good boy.”
His eyes looked sated and happy, sparkling as he smiled down at her. Once he was composed, Kristof fetched the camera from the coffee table. “One last shot?” he asked, the hint of hope thick on his voice.
She placed a kiss on his spent cock, then stood and donned her peignoir once more. A little bit of come still remained on her lips, and she played it up to the camera whilst posing seductively. He’d done so well; he deserved a parting gift.
After snapping a couple shots, he held the camera out. “Thanks for everything.”
“Keep it.” She kissed him one last time and slipped away into the adjoining room, visions of him masturbating to the photos he’d taken swimming through her still-buzzing mind. She hoped she’d be seeing him again.
Ends