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‘Thanks, Harry,’ she smiled up at me, as I set a mug of tea down on her bedside table. ‘Can I have a kiss, as well?’
I set my mug down next to hers and bent to kiss her. She giggled and quickly kicked off the duvet.
‘I meant on these lips,’ she said, spreading her legs and arching her back.
I grinned and knelt on the floor at the foot of the bed. Sliding a hand under each of her buttocks, I pulled her towards me, catching her scent as I did so. It was a rich, heady odour, containing not only our combined juices from a few hours ago but also the fresh aroma of her present arousal.
The moment her clit came within range I flicked at it with my tongue. She moaned and rolled her hips, arching her back once more, this time rubbing her cunt against my mouth. I licked and sucked avidly, drawing longer, more passionate moans from her and causing a fresh flood of juices to bathe my face.
‘God, don’t stop!’ she groaned.
I had no intentions of doing so – not for a while, at any rate. I love going down on Sarah. Not only does she always taste good, but she is also delightfully responsive. This morning was no exception. She writhed and moaned until she gave a little cry and began shuddering. Immediately I stopped eating her and straightened up to lean over her, taking my weight on my hands as though I was about to do a press up.
Instead, I looked down between us and moved my pelvis until the head of prick was nestling between her lips. Then I took her with a single, firm thrust.
She cried out again and hooked her feet behind my knees, grinding herself against me as I fucked her with short, hard stabs. Only when her shuddering eased and she opened her eyes to grin happily at me, did I move into the sort of rhythm that was likely to get me off.
‘I want you to cum,’ she panted, still out of breath from her orgasm. ‘Deep inside me. Fill me with your cream.’
Timing things to perfection, she urged me on to the point where she could sense I was about to cum and then pushed a finger firmly into my ass. I jerked as though stung and the next second I was grunting with release as I pumped yet one more load of cum into her ever-welcoming cunt.
A few minutes later, with our breathing approaching normal, I moved up to lie alongside her and we sipped our tea in happy silence. Judging from the brightness visible through the shutters, it was another gorgeous day.
‘Okay,’ she said at last, setting down her empty mug. ‘What have we got to do today?’
I grinned and reached for the little box that was on the floor on my side of the bed. I offered it to her and she pulled out a neatly folded slip of paper. I put the box back down again and waited to find out what was on the paper.
‘Oh, no,’ she laughed, handing it to me.
I met Sarah when I answered an ad in the local paper asking for a professional person to share a house. Sarah was thirty-four and newly divorced. She had gained the house but needed help paying the mortgage and bills. We seemed to hit it off quite well – I was roughly the same age, just a couple of years older than her – and we had many similar tastes. I also found her very attractive but felt it was probably best not to mention that.
After a few days she called to ask if I was still interested because, having met all those who had relied to her ad, she liked me best.
‘I’m still very much interested,’ I told her, ‘but there’s just one thing we never mentioned when we met and I think we ought to mention it now, rather than later.’
‘Go on,’ she said, a hint of caution in her voice.
‘Well, how would you feel if I wanted to bring a woman back for the night?’
She gave what sounded like a relieved little laugh.
‘Your girlfriend? I’d love to meet her. No problem at all.’
‘Ah, great, but the thing is, I don’t have a regular girlfriend as such…’
She laughed again, more confidently this time.
‘Harry, for the last fifteen years I’ve been faithful to a bastard who had more women while we were married than he did before we were married. Don’t you worry about bringing home different women because I sure as hell intend to continue bringing home every man I take a fancy to!’
‘Good for you! Well, in that case, I’d love to share your house.’
A week later I was all moved in and I quickly discovered that she meant exactly what she said about bringing home a succession of men. Over the next six months she must have had at least a dozen. Fortunately, not all of them made her moan loudly enough to keep me awake and, anyway, I brought home a few women myself. In fact it almost became a game between us when, after they’d gone, we would rate each other’s partner and then listen to most of the intimate details to see if we had been right. In doing so, we learned a lot about each other’s preferences in bed and even went so far as to give each other tips or suggestions.
For example, when she was considering whether or not to try anal, I advised her to go for it, assuring canlı bahis her that, providing she used sufficient lubrication, she would enjoy it – as indeed she did. For her part, when she learned that the girl I was seeing at the time had offered me a snowball, she urged me to accept – which I did, surprising myself by enjoying it.
We agreed that the arrangement was working out well and so, when I told her I was thinking of having a long weekend in Amsterdam she asked if she could tag along.
‘I mean, I won’t get in your way if you want to, er, do personal stuff.’
‘Sarah,’ I grinned, ‘there’s no need for me to go all the way to Amsterdam just to get laid, if that’s what you’re thinking.’
‘No, of course not,’ she said quickly. ‘I know you have plenty of women – and that one you had last week was really noisy, if you know what I mean – but, who knows, maybe it’s a guy thing to have a hooker every now and again. I’m told Amsterdam’s as good a place as any if that’s the case.’
‘Well it isn’t the case,’ I said firmly. ‘And I’ve already told you that Madeleine might have moaned a lot – but only because I was doing all the work for both of us. No, I like to go there to relax, to see the sights and to smoke some weed.’
‘Ooooh! Do you? I’ve never done that.’
‘Then come with me,’ I shrugged. ‘I’ll show you around and we can do some cannabis. If you don’t want to smoke it, you can buy some space cake and eat it. Same effect although it takes a little longer to kick in.’
‘You’re on,’ she said happily.
I was pleased too. It hadn’t occurred to me to invite her because I thought she might have felt under some sort of obligation, or even that I had hidden motives for asking her. The fact was though, that as well as fancying her, I enjoyed her company – which was probably why our living arrangements worked out so well.
We managed to get her on the same flights as me – although she had to pay more because she was booking late – and a room in the same hotel which was more important to her than being on the same flight.
‘I wouldn’t want to be on my own in a strange hotel in a foreign country,’ she shivered.
‘But that’s exactly what you’re going to be,’ I grinned.
‘You know what I mean,’ she sighed. ‘You’re only going to be a few rooms or, at most, a floor or two away.’
‘What do you think is going to happen?’
‘Who can say?’ she shrugged.
We arrived late on a Friday afternoon, checked into the hotel, showered, changed and went out to find somewhere to eat. Afterwards, we went to a hash café and had some space cake along with our coffees. Then to a bar where the waitresses seemed to be competing to see who could wear the skimpiest shorts and T-shirts.
Towards the end of my second beer I could feel the hash starting to take effect and asked Sarah how she was feeling.
‘Thank God it’s the hash!’ she giggled. ‘I was thinking that Dutch beer must be really strong.’
We took a stroll through the red-light district. Sarah was fascinated by all the hookers in their windows and also by the clubs advertising live sex shows.
‘We’ve got to see a show before we go back to the hotel,’ she insisted.
‘There’s always tomorrow,’ I pointed out.
‘I know. But we’re here now.’
So we sat through a show which lasted about an hour and a half. It was quite good. Plenty of live sex, as promised, a little audience participation and a fair degree of humour. Sarah was delighted.
‘That was great!’ she said when we came out. ‘But fancy doing that for a living – screwing in front of an audience every night. I wonder if the men ever have trouble getting it up?’
‘You’d have to ask them,’ I grinned. ‘They’re probably hooked on Viagra.’
‘What shall we do now?’ she asked.
‘It’s getting on for midnight. How about a last drink somewhere and then back to the hotel?’
‘Okay. I hope you know where it is though, because I don’t.’
We ended up having not only a last drink, but also some more space cake. By the time we found our way back to the hotel, we were both nicely stoned. Ignoring the knowing looks from the desk clerk, we collected our keys and headed for the lift. I got off at her floor and walked her to her room. At the door, we paused.
‘What are you going to do now?’ she asked.
‘Go to my room and go to bed. Why?’
‘Hmm. Tell me something – in fact come in for a minute, I can’t talk about this in the corridor.’
Mildly puzzled, I dutifully followed her in to her room. She went straight to the mini bar and pulled out a couple of the miniature wine bottles.
‘I hope you realise how expensive these are,’ I warned.
She waved dismissively and unscrewed one of the bottles before passing it to me.
‘Here you are sir. Sorry my shorts aren’t as tight as those other girls.’
She was wearing a mini dress, boots and a jacket and sat down on the bed to pull off the boots.
‘Your legs are better than theirs, though,’ I grinned, catching a flash of her panties as she lifted a leg.
‘Do you think so?’ she asked, frowning bahis siteleri critically at them for a moment before taking a swig from her bottle.
‘Definitely,’ I assured her. ‘But what was it you wanted to ask me?’
‘Eh? Oh. Right. I wondered if you found the sex show arousing?’
‘Not as such, because it was obviously staged for tourists. I mean, porn films are also staged – like any film – but not in the same way. Why, did you?’
‘A little,’ she admitted.
‘However,’ I continued, ‘I found the whole situation, wandering around Amsterdam, stoned, looking at all the sex on display, with a sexy companion, kind of arousing.’
‘Oh!’ she said thoughtfully, looking quite pleased. ‘So what are you going to do about it?’
‘Probably masturbate when I get back to my room.’
‘Mmm,’ she nodded. ‘That’s what I intend to do. Tell you what, why don’t we watch each other? Don’t you think that would be a lot more fun than doing it on our own?’
‘Definitely,’ I agreed. ‘The trouble with that, though, is that I’d want to do more than just watch.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘If I’m alone with a half naked – at least – and very attractive woman who is letting me watch her masturbate, I doubt I’d be able to keep my hands off her.’
‘You want to do it for her?’
‘I’d want to touch her and kiss her and lick her and, hopefully after she’s done more or less the same to me, fuck her,’ I told her.
‘Hmm. Well, that’s fine by me.’
‘Harry, I’d like you to fuck me. Why I’ve waited until now to tell you, is beyond me. But, well, what do you say?’
‘God, Sarah, I’ve been wanting to fuck you since we first met – since that day when I came round in answer to your ad.’
‘Then what are we waiting for?’
It turned out to be an exceptional weekend. We did everything we could think of to each other and loved every second of it. She invited me to fuck her ass – which I did with much pleasure and I asked her to give me a snowball – which she did with equal pleasure.
We were exhausted but exhilarated on the flight back and went straight to bed once we were back at her house.
‘So where does this leave us?’ she asked, as we lay, breathless and sticky after yet another fuck.
‘Good friends who love to fuck?’ I offered.
‘I like that,’ she smiled, snuggling in close. ‘That leaves us still able to see others, doesn’t it?’
‘Oh, God, yes! In fact we ought to make a rule: we should make sure we fuck each other at least once a week – more more if we want – but, apart from that…’
‘Perfect,’ she said sleepily.
And that’s what we did. Interestingly enough, although we both continued to have other partners, neither of us had quite so many as we had had previously and most of those were casual flings, if not one-night-stands. When summer came round it was taken as read that we would go on holiday together. To that end, we hired a little cottage not far from a fairly large, coastal town in France, figuring we could either amuse ourselves in the cottage and surrounding countryside, or seek alternative entertainment in the town.
‘You know what we ought to do?’ she said, the night before we were due to leave.
I was looking at the grass that remained from our Amsterdam trip, wondering if it would last the holiday.
‘Make a list of all the raunchy things we’d like to do – fantasies, that sort of thing – and write them on bits of paper. Then, every morning we pick one out of a hat – and we have to have done it before we go to sleep that night.’
‘That sounds like it could be fun,’ I grinned, forgetting about the grass for a moment.
‘I know. You’ve got that digital camera that takes videos so one thing could be to make a mini movie. In fact, we ought to take pictures of everything we do so we have a photo-record of all our dirty doings.’
We spent most of the rest of the evening making our lists, comparing and discussing them and then reducing them until we had an even number of her fantasies and mine, totalling one for each day of the holiday, plus a couple of spares. Then, totally aroused, we went to bed and fucked for several hours.
I looked at the slip of paper and grinned. It was one of mine: to go to a bar and, while there, take a photograph of Sarah showing she was not wearing panties.
‘I’m still not sure how we can do it without one or both of us being arrested,’ she protested.
I noticed she wasn’t refusing to do it, just doubtful how it could be accomplished.
‘We’ll have to play it by ear,’ I said confidently, ‘but you’ll need to choose either a very short skirt, or something loose. Then, if you were sitting on a bar stool, you could half turn towards me. I’ll be leaning against the bar a few feet away and I’ll pretend to focus on your face. In fact I’d make sure that your deliciously juicy pussy was just in shot. We could practice using one of the kitchen stools and pretend the kitchen counter was the bar.
‘On bahis şirketleri the other hand, if we were at a table, it would be easy – we’d just make sure you had the table between you and the rest of the room.’
‘That’s so naughty,’ she giggled, sounding more like a school girl than a mature woman.
Her hand stole between my thighs and tentatively stroked my prick. At the same time she cocked an enquiring eyebrow at me.
‘Fancy some sloppy seconds?’ she asked.
‘I’d fancy sloppy anythings with you. But it doesn’t have to be that sloppy…’
I started to slither down the bed but she stopped me.
‘No. Let’s have some sloppy, squelchy, squishy sex and then maybe a reverse snowball.’
‘That’s one of my fantasies we haven’t picked yet,’ I protested.
‘Then we’ll pick again when it comes up,’ she said, her fingers beginning to provoke a reaction from me.
While we kissed, she continued to tease me hard again. For my part, I used two fingers to bring her off and then she grabbed my hand to lick my fingers clean.
‘Mmm! I want more,’ she grinned. ‘You just lie there and let me do the work.’
The holiday had been something of a revelation to me. I knew Sarah had a high sex drive and was pretty uninhibited, but things had moved to a new level in the short time we were there. It was as though she had been waiting for the right moment to let certain things out.
The first night we were there, we ate outside, on the patio. By the time we had finished the main course it was dark and the only light came from candles that we found under the kitchen sink and stuck into empty wine bottles. Sarah cut some water melon into small pieces and offered me one.
I waved it away and poured myself some more wine instead.
‘Okay,’ she said mildly and then hitched the loose, flowing skirt she was wearing up around her waist.
As I watched in amazement, she ran the piece of melon over the lips of her cunt and then popped it into her mouth.
‘Sure you don’t want any?’ she asked innocently, holding up another piece.
‘Well… ‘I grinned.
She repeated her action, this time finishing by dragging the piece up between her lips and over her clit. It tasted wonderful.
After a few more pieces each, she cut a larger piece and inserted it into her cunt.
‘Help yourself,’ she said.
I dropped to my knees immediately and, long after I’d eaten the melon, I continued licking her cunt. Then I stood up and dropped my shorts. She laughed throatily at the sight of my erection and rubbed more melon along the shaft, before carefully and lovingly, licking and sucking it clean.
When she was done, she leaned back in her chair and I leaned over her. Taking my weight on the arms of her chair, I slid smoothly into her and fucked her until my arms buckled under the strain.
‘Coffee, then,’ she said rather breathlessly.
I followed her into the kitchen and knelt in front of her, eating her the whole time she leant over me to make the coffee. She protested at first, then gave in and let me, letting out little mewing sounds as I brought her closer to an orgasm. Finally she could stand it no longer and, taking me firmly by the ears, she pulled me upright. Turning us both round, she perched on the kitchen counter and she spread her legs.
‘Go on then,’ she urged, fiercely. ‘Do it to me.’
I was just about to when the sight of the bottle of olive oil on the counter gave me an idea. I grabbed it, flipped open the cap and poured a generous amount over the lower part of her belly. For a second or two, we both watched it flow down, over her clit and lips, some of it going round the outside of them, some of it flowing the length of her slit. I slid my hands round the back of her knees and lifted her legs up.
‘Stay like this,’ I instructed her.
She promptly used her own hands to help keep her legs in position. As she did so, I began working the oil in and around her ass.
‘Oh no!’ she breathed realising what my intention was.
‘Oh yes!’ I growled, making sure my prick was coated with oil as well.
‘Oh God!’ she breathed, as I slid smoothly into her ass. ‘Oh, God, yes!’
Ten minutes later we were back out on the patio, sipping coffee.
‘It’s a good job these chairs are plastic,’ she giggled, shifting position.
‘Why’s that?’ I asked, guessing what her reply would be.
‘Because, apart from being oily, I’m leaking all over it. It’s all your fault, so you can clean it up.’
The next day, having returned from a lazy afternoon on the beach I poured us both a glass of wine while she showered and then took my turn. Pulling back the shower curtain I barely had time to register her presence before she was sucking my prick. She had obviously been waiting quietly for me to finish showering.
It took her about thirty seconds to get me hard and then she backed away, grinning wickedly, turned around and knelt on the bath mat. I stepped out of the shower and pulled her dress up over her hips. I couldn’t help sucking in my breath in surprise as I noticed her naked ass was glistening with oil. She giggled, pleased with my reaction and then wriggled her ass invitingly.
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