Category: Erotic Scenarios

Hungry Bullocks, Gyration of Bollocks

Back in the late 1990’s

I’m Richard, and for the past few years, I’d been running a beef herd on a profit-share deal with a landowner who owned butcher shops scattered across Lancashire and Yorkshire. The herd was grass-fed, which sounded simple enough until this last winter hit, bitterly cold and bone-dry, it left the fields a patchy mess of brittle stalks and bare earth. The bullocks were leaner than I’d have liked, and I was scrambling for solutions.

Hilary owned the land next door, a sprawling plot where she ran a riding stables. I’d done field work for her in the past, mowing, fertilising, fencing, that sort of thing, so we were on good terms. One afternoon, I wandered over to her place, hands stuffed in my pockets, and pitched the idea of renting some of her pasture to keep the herd going. “It’s a profit-share setup,” I explained, kicking at a clod of dirt. “I don’t pocket much unless the cattle do well.”

She leaned against the stable door, her blonde hair tucked under a wool cap, and gave me a long look. “Fair enough,” she said. “We’ll sort something out. But while you’re here, Richard, got any free evenings? I run art classes at the barn, and I’m always short of portrait models. Pays decent, and you’ve got a face for it.”

I shrugged. “Sure, why not?” A bit of extra cash sounded good, especially with the farm stretched thin. So I started doing the portrait gigs, two sessions, just sitting there in a chair while a handful of students sketched my jawline and the lines around my eyes. It was easy enough, though I felt a bit stiff by the end.

After the second session, I got chatting with a bloke in the hall, a life model from the class next door. He was a wiry guy, all elbows and confidence, and when he told me what he earned posing starkers, my jaw dropped. Nearly double what I was getting for keeping my shirt on. I cornered Hilary the next day, still buzzing from the numbers. “What about life modelling?” I asked. “Any openings?”

She grinned, a glint in her eye. “You’re in luck. I’ve got a slot tomorrow. Pays almost twice the portrait rate. You up for it?”

“Count me in,” I said, ignoring the little twist of nerves in my gut.

The following evening, I stepped out of the changing room in a bathrobe that smelled faintly of mothballs, my heart thudding louder than I’d expected. The barn was warm, lit by soft lamps, with a circle of easels and students waiting. I shrugged off the robe, letting it pool at my feet, and stood there, bare as the day I was born. Hilary raised an eyebrow, her gaze flickering down for a split second before she nodded approvingly. She had spotted the inevitable, I’d known for years I was packing a little more. “Nice,” she said, then pointed to a stool. “Sit there, one leg bent, arm resting on your knee. Hold it for twenty, be prepared to repeat two more times.”

I did as she asked, feeling the cool air on my skin and the weight of a dozen pairs of eyes. My member hung there, unapologetic, and I tried to focus on the rafters instead of the scratching pencils. It wasn’t so bad once I settled in, just a job, like mucking out a stall. After each twenty minute session a five minute break, then getting back into the same position

When the students filed out, Hilary sauntered over, her boots clicking on the wooden floor. “You did well,” she said, then tilted her head, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “Ever thought about stripping? Proper stripping, I mean, dancing, the lot. It’s a bit intimidating at first, sure, but it can be fun. Pays a hell of a lot more than this, too. I’d look after you, book the gigs, handle the details. I reckon you’ve got the right element of flamboyant eccentricity to do it well, Richard. And, well…” She smirked, giving me a once-over. “If you’ve got it, flaunt it.”

I laughed, half from nerves, half from the absurdity of it. Flamboyant eccentricity? Me? I’d spent my days in mud-stained boots, not prancing about, but her confidence was infectious. “You serious?” I asked.

“Dead serious,” she said. “Think it over.”

I did. And the next week, I was back, not just posing, but moving, shedding clothes to music in front of a crowd. Hilary was right, it was daunting, the first time especially, with all those cheers and eyes tracking every step. But she kept her word, guiding me through it, and soon I was doing three or four sessions a week. A few hours of stripping, twirling a hat, flexing for the laughs, letting the rhythm take over, and I was pulling in more cash than I ever saw from the farm, even in a good year. The herd still grazed Hilary’s land, but the real profit? That came from me, stepping out of my boots and into something entirely unexpected.

March 19, 2025
Slow Delivery

Outdoors they drift beneath a molten canopy of flame,
Her loose top flows like a whisper of dawn’s breath, leggings a serpent’s coil on her frame,
His jeans a taut forge of denim, t-shirt a banner in the sun’s wild game.
Others blur into ghosts, swallowed by the day’s untamed sea,
On a bench carved by time’s teeth, they alight unseen,
His hands voyage to her mound, a hidden hill of honeyed green,
She stiffens, a shiver racing, her breath a startled fawn unseen.

Her thighs unfurl like lotus blooms in a fevered pond,
A furnace flares in her gaze, twin embers of want unbound,
Pressure mounts, his touch a river chiseling stone to frond,
Motion a sculptor’s blade, her lips part, a soft moan crowned.
She spies his jeans, a ridge swelling like a coiled beast,
Her core clenches, a greedy pulse beneath her skin’s veil,
Then he withdraws, a tide abandoning its hive,
She gasps, a whimper of loss, her eyes blaze, wild and frail.

In the car, he stoops, lips a tempest claiming her shore,
A kiss that brands, she melts, her tongue a moth to his forge,
His hand snakes beneath her leggings, a thief at the door,
Past knickers’ damp sentinels, her hips buck, a plea to gorge.
Fingers plunge like divers into her coral abyss,
She writhes, a keening cry, her nails dig into the seat,
She’s a volcano’s edge, lava kissing the abyss,
He halts, “Drive,” he commands—she trembles, rage and heat.

The road roars, a black ribbon threading dusk’s loom,
His words fall like embers, her chest heaves, a frantic drum,
Each breath a bellows, she hungers, a flower torn from bloom,
Her eyes catch his jeans, erection a spear—she bites her thumb.
A desert thirsting, she squirms, her leggings chafe her ache,
His bulge taunts, her voice cracks, “Hurry,” a desperate plea,
Whispers weave lust’s brash clash, her resolve begins to break,
Hotel lights flare, she grips the wheel, a storm desperate to be free.

In the room, her need roars, a lioness unchained,
She lunges, eyes feral, craving their skins to spark,
He lures her to the shower, a siren’s refrain,
Steam cloaks her, she purrs, her body a taut, quivering arc.
His hands glide, soap sculpts her joyish vale, she moans low,
Fingers tease like moths, her knees buckle, a pleading sigh,
She arches, a bowstring taut, begging the final blow,
He stops, she growls, a snarl of want, her patience run dry.

Towels shed, she sprawls, a banquet on sheets of snow,
Legs flare like wings, she beckons, a queen in flushed command,
He kneels, lips a pilgrim at her altar’s flow,
She arches, a guttural cry, her hands claw at the strand.
Before she shatters, he mounts, a stallion in the fray,
Thrusts deep, she screams, a banshee loosed in primal din,
She erupts, a starburst fracturing night to day,
Her spasms hurl him, a wild mare bucking free from sin.

March 19, 2025
Lisa – The Reunion

The sun blazed overhead as Richard and I stepped onto the sandy expanse of the nudist beach. It was my first time here, and I couldn’t help but feel a flutter of nerves mixed with curiosity. The air smelled of salt and sunscreen, and as we walked further in, my eyes darted around, taking in the scene. Naked bodies sprawled across towels and lounged under umbrellas, men and women of all shapes and sizes, completely at ease. I tried not to stare, but the array of cocks swinging casually as people walked by was impossible to ignore. Some hung long and heavy, others were shorter but thick, and the variety was oddly mesmerizing. The women, too, caught my attention, curvy hips, flat stomachs, breasts ranging from full and round to small like mine. I felt a strange mix of self-consciousness and fascination.

I glanced down at myself, still fully clothed in a loose sundress with my bikini underneath. I’m short and trim, my A-cup breasts barely making a dent in the fabric, and below, my neatly trimmed pubes frame a small outward slit, nothing showy, nothing that protrudes. My lips down there are smooth and hairless, a detail I’d always liked about myself. Still, the thought of baring it all here made my stomach twist.

Richard, walking beside me, seemed perfectly at home. He’d been here before, many times, apparently, and it showed. As we passed a group of single women lounging on their towels, a few of them flashed warm, knowing smiles his way. One even gave a little wave. I couldn’t help but notice how their eyes lingered on him, and it struck me that he was well-liked here. It made sense, he’s charming in that easy, unassuming way of his. We’d met four years ago at the engineering firm where we both worked, back when he’d flirted with me and asked me out. I’d turned him down, citing my no-dating-coworkers rule, but we’d clicked anyway, becoming fast friends. This was the first time I’d seen him since he left the company last week, and when he’d suggested this beach trip, I’d agreed without fully grasping what I was in for.

“You okay?” Richard’s voice broke through my thoughts. He must’ve noticed my hesitation as I clutched the straps of my bag a little too tightly.

“Yeah, just… taking it all in,” I said, my eyes flicking to a man walking past with a cock that bobbed with every step. I quickly looked away, heat creeping up my neck.

“You don’t have to strip if you don’t want to,” he said, his tone reassuring. “Nudity’s not mandatory here. See?” He nodded toward a couple nearby, her in a bikini bottom, him in loose shorts. Another woman wore a sarong tied around her chest. It eased my nerves a bit, knowing I had an out.

I nodded, still feeling awkward as I set my bag down on the sand. Beneath my dress, my bikini felt like a safety net. I peeled off the dress, folding it carefully, hyper-aware of every movement as Richard started undressing beside me. He shed his shirt first, revealing the lean, familiar frame I’d seen in T-shirts a hundred times. Then his shorts came off, and I busied myself adjusting my towel, trying not to watch. But when he hooked his thumbs into his boxers and slid them down, I couldn’t help it, my breath caught in my throat. His cock was… impressive. Long and thick, it hung there with a casual confidence that made my mind flash to the porn I secretly loved watching. It was bigger than anything I’d seen in real life, and I hadn’t been prepared for that.

“Wow,” I blurted, then tried to play it cool. “I’m surprised you’ve been hiding that from me all this time. Four years, Richard, and you never thought to mention you’re packing that?”

He laughed, a deep, easy sound that broke the tension. “Didn’t think it’d come up in conversation at the office.”

“Well, it’s nice,” I said, aiming for nonchalant but probably failing. “Really nice.”

“Thanks,” he said, grinning as he spread his towel out. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

We settled onto our towels, the sun warming my skin through my bikini. For an hour or so, we chatted about everything and nothing, work gossip, his new freelance gig, the salty breeze. But my eyes kept wandering, and I couldn’t shake the curiosity about those smiling women. Finally, I leaned closer and lowered my voice. “So, how many of these women have you fucked? Some of them look like they know you pretty well.”

He raised an eyebrow, then smirked. “Just one, actually. Amanda.” He pointed discreetly to a woman a few yards away, tall, tanned, with dark hair and a relaxed posture. “She was a close friend of Sue’s.”

Sue, his late wife. He didn’t talk about her often, but when he did, it was with a quiet fondness. I tilted my head, intrigued. “Just a friend, huh?”

“Well…” He waved Amanda over, and to my shock, she strolled up with a bright smile. What followed was the most surreal conversation of my life. Richard introduced us, and within minutes, they were casually reminiscing about how Amanda, Sue, and Richard used to have threesomes, regularly, on birthdays, and sometimes just because. Amanda laughed as she recounted Sue’s playful rules, and Richard nodded along, unfazed. I sat there, wide-eyed, trying to process it.

Amanda turned to me, her tone light. “If you ever want me to join you two, I’d be happy to revive some memories.”

“Oh, we’re not,” Richard started, but I cut in, leaning toward her with a loud whisper.

“Yet.”

She chuckled and sauntered back to her spot, leaving me alone with Richard. He turned to me, his blue eyes searching mine. He was lying on his back now, and I noticed he’d pulled his towel over his groin sometime during the chat. “Did you mean that?” he asked. “About the ‘yet’?”

I met his gaze, my heart pounding. “Do you want to rectify that?”

He didn’t answer with words. Instead, he lifted the edge of his towel just enough for me to see. His cock was swollen, straining against the air, and the sight sent a jolt through me. We didn’t say much after that, just dressed quickly, grabbed our things, and headed back to the hotel he’d booked for me.

In the hotel room, the air crackled with anticipation. The door clicked shut behind us, and we didn’t waste a second, our clothes hit the floor in a frantic heap, a trail of fabric leading to the bathroom. The shower was already steaming when we stepped in, the hot water sluicing over my skin, washing away the sand and salt. Richard’s hands were on me immediately, sliding down my wet sides, tracing the curve of my hips. His fingers slipped between my legs, finding my clit with a precision that made me gasp. The water pounded against my back as he worked me, his touch firm yet gentle, circling and teasing until my knees buckled. I gripped his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin as the first orgasm ripped through me, sharp and sudden, a burst of heat that left me trembling against him. He held me steady, his lips brushing my ear, whispering something I couldn’t catch over the sound of the water and my own ragged breathing.

We barely toweled off, still dripping as we stumbled out of the shower. My skin tingled, hypersensitive from the release, and I felt bold, hungry for more. I turned to face him, then bent over in front of the bathroom counter, my hands gripping the edge as I reached back with both hands to spread myself wide. The cool air hit my exposed flesh, a stark contrast to the warmth still radiating from my core. Richard’s eyes darkened as he stepped closer, his cock already hard again, glistening from the shower. He bent his knees slightly, aligning himself, and then he was inside me, one slow, deliberate thrust that stretched me open. I moaned, the fullness overwhelming, his thickness pressing against every sensitive spot inside me. He started moving, long strokes that dragged his length out nearly to the tip before plunging back in, each one sending a shudder through me. My fingers found my clit, rubbing in time with his rhythm, and the combination pushed me over the edge again, a quick, intense orgasm that made my walls clench around him, my breath hitching as I rode it out.

He slowed, letting me catch my breath, then guided me to the bed. We sank onto the crisp sheets, and he pulled me close, positioning me beneath him in missionary. His hands explored me, sliding up my thighs, squeezing the soft flesh there, then roaming higher to cup my small breasts. His thumbs brushed my nipples, teasing them into tight peaks as he entered me again. This time, it was slower, more deliberate, his cock sliding in deep, filling me completely, then pulling back with a languid grace that let me feel every inch of him. The sensation was exquisite, a delicious stretch that made my toes curl. His hands stayed on my breasts, kneading gently, his fingers occasionally pinching my nipples just hard enough to send sparks down my spine. I arched into him, meeting his thrusts, my hands gripping his biceps as the pleasure built layer by layer. His breath was hot against my neck, his lips grazing my skin, and I felt utterly consumed by him, by the weight of his body, the steady rhythm of his hips, the way his cock seemed to fit me perfectly.

After a while, he shifted us again, rolling onto his side and pulling me with him into a spooning position. His chest pressed against my back, warm and solid, one arm sliding beneath me to cradle my breast while the other hand gripped my thigh, lifting it slightly to give him better access. He entered me from behind, and the angle was new, his cock hitting deeper, brushing against a spot that made me whimper. His strokes were slow at first, almost teasing, his length gliding in and out with a slick, sensual ease. His hand on my thigh tightened, fingers digging into my flesh as he picked up the pace, each thrust sending a ripple of pleasure through me. His other hand toyed with my nipple, rolling it between his fingers, and the dual sensations, his cock inside me, his touch on my skin, built a slow, simmering heat. I reached back, tangling my fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as his lips found my shoulder, kissing and nipping the skin there. The intimacy of it, the way our bodies fit together, was intoxicating. I felt every movement, every subtle shift of his hips, and it drove me higher until I was panting, my body trembling on the edge.

“I’m close,” he murmured against my ear, his voice rough with need. “Where?”

“In me,” I gasped, desperate to feel him let go. My pussy clenched around him as he thrust harder, his rhythm faltering as he came. His cock pulsed inside me, jerking with each spurt, and I swore I could feel the hot rush of his release, coating my insides as he groaned, a low, guttural sound that vibrated through me. I rode the wave of his orgasm, my own pleasure spiking as his thrusts slowed, his body shuddering against mine.

He stayed inside me as he softened, his breath evening out. I turned my head, meeting his eyes with a lazy smile. “That was incredible. Your cock is… unreal.”

He chuckled, kissing my shoulder. “You’ve got a first-rate pussy, Lisa. Seriously.”

“It’s getting sore, though,” I admitted, and he pulled out gently, his touch tender as he shifted down the bed. His mouth found my clit, warm and soft, his tongue circling it with a slow, deliberate pressure that made me sigh. His fingers slipped inside me, massaging my walls, still slick with his cum and my arousal. The combination was perfect, his mouth teasing my sensitive bud, his fingers curling just right, and the pleasure built steadily, a deep, rolling wave that arched my back off the bed. I came again, longer this time, my body shaking as I cried out, my hands fisting the sheets.

We showered again, the water a soothing balm on my overstimulated skin. His hands were everywhere, sliding over my back, tracing my spine, cupping my ass as we stood under the spray. I returned the favor, running my fingers through his wet hair, pressing my body against his as we lingered, not quite ready to let the moment end. Eventually, we dressed and headed to dinner, trading stories over seafood about my job at the engineering firm and how much I missed his data-processing wizardry.

Afterward, he suggested a walk, but I had other ideas. “I haven’t sucked you yet,” I said, keeping my voice low as we stepped away from the restaurant. “I want to fix that.”

Back in the room, I took charge. I stripped him slowly, peeling off his shirt to reveal the lean planes of his chest, then sliding his pants and boxers down, letting his cock spring free. It was limp at first, soft and heavy in my hand as I knelt before him. I stopped him when he reached for my clothes, this was about him, about me giving him something. I took him into my mouth, savoring the velvety texture as he swelled against my tongue. My lips stretched around him, and I felt powerful, in control, as I worked him deeper. Our eyes locked, his darkening with every slow, deliberate suck. I varied my technique, long, languid strokes where I took him to the back of my throat, then pulled back to tease the tip with quick, flicking licks. My hands joined in, one cupping his balls, rolling them gently, the other stroking the base where my mouth couldn’t reach. His cock filled my mouth, thick and hard, the taste of him salty and raw. My jaw ached, but I loved it, the fullness, the way his breath quickened, the soft groans he couldn’t hold back.

“If you’ve got any left,” I said, pulling off for a moment, my voice husky, “cum in my mouth.” I dove back in, sucking harder, my tongue swirling around the head before plunging down again. I hollowed my cheeks, creating a tight suction, then softened my lips for a gentler, wetter glide. His hands fisted in my hair, not pushing, just holding on as his hips twitched. He came with a guttural moan, his cock pulsing as hot spurts hit my tongue. I took it all, swallowing every drop, my eyes never leaving his as I slowed, letting him ride out the aftershocks.

He was still hard when I pulled back, and I grinned, wiping my lips. “More?”

“God, yes,” he rasped, and I laughed, my mouth too sore to keep going. I stripped off my clothes, the air cool against my heated skin, and pushed him onto the bed. Climbing on top, I sank onto him, his cock sliding into me with a slick, perfect fit. I rode him slowly at first, rolling my hips to feel him deep inside, then leaned forward, my hands braced on his chest as I picked up the pace. His hands reached for me, but I batted them away, pinning his wrists above his head. “Just lie there,” I commanded, and he obeyed, his eyes burning with lust as I took what I wanted. I shifted positions, sitting upright to grind against him, then leaning back, one hand on his thigh as I angled him just right. His cock hit every spot I needed, the friction building me up until I came, hard and fast, my pussy clenching around him. I didn’t stop, kept riding, chasing another, then another, each orgasm sharper, more intense, my body trembling as I used him relentlessly. Sweat beaded on my skin, my breath came in gasps, and finally, I collapsed beside him, spent and sated.

“Friends, huh?” he said, smirking as he caught his breath.

“Best kind,” I replied, already wondering how we’d top this tomorrow.

March 19, 2025
Amanda’s Thirtieth Birthday

Back History – The First Time

Sue and Amanda had been inseparable since their teenage years, a friendship forged through shared secrets, late-night giggles, and the chaos of growing up. By the time they reached their school leaving party, held on Amanda’s eighteenth birthday, they were already thick as thieves. That night, the air buzzed with freedom, exams were over, adulthood loomed, and the cheap wine flowed freely. At the local community hall, they danced, laughed, and drank until the room spun. Stumbling back to Amanda’s house, they collapsed onto her bed, giggling and slurring confessions. Then, in a haze of tipsy courage, Sue leaned in and kissed Amanda. It wasn’t planned, but it wasn’t unwelcome either.

Clothes came off in a clumsy tangle, and what followed was a night of surprisingly good sex, fingers exploring, lips tasting, bodies pressed close. They woke the next morning with pounding heads and a flicker of awkwardness, but the memory of pleasure lingered. Neither spoke of it for weeks, until Amanda’s next birthday rolled around. Frustrated after a long shift at the nursing home where they’d started working, Sue suggested a drink. One thing led to another, and they ended up in bed again, laughing off the awkwardness. It became a tradition, birthdays, and the odd night of pent-up need. The sex was always good, a secret release valve for two women too busy caring for others to care much for dating.

Back History – Sharing Dave

A couple of years into their nursing home jobs, Amanda started seeing Dave, a cocky delivery guy with a decent smile and a knack for flirting. The sex was fine, nothing earth-shattering, but after a few months, Amanda grew bored. One night, over beers at Sue’s flat, she vented about his predictable moves. Sue, half-joking, suggested they spice things up by sharing him. Amanda laughed, but the idea stuck. The next weekend, Dave came over, expecting a quiet night with Amanda. Instead, he found Sue lounging on the couch in a skimpy top, grinning wickedly.

What followed was a sweaty, chaotic threesome, Dave, thrilled but overwhelmed, tried to keep up as Sue and Amanda took turns teasing him and each other. It was fun, messy, and a little absurd. Dave didn’t last long, and afterward, Amanda decided she was done with him entirely. Sue and Amanda, though, found the experience bonded them further, no jealousy, just a shared adventure. They didn’t repeat it with anyone else, but it cemented their dynamic: friends, occasional lovers, and partners in mischief.

Modern Day – The Cove

It was March 13, 2025, Amanda’s thirtieth birthday, and Sue had promised something special. They’d worked the early shift at the nursing home, then headed straight to their secret cove, a secluded spot tucked beneath cliffs, perfect for naked swimming. Sue had brought Richard, her new fling, along, hinting at a treat. The sun was high as they reached the sandy shore, stripping off their uniforms with practiced ease. Amanda admired Sue’s lean frame, while Sue eyed Amanda’s curves. Richard, tall and broad, shed his clothes last, revealing a thick, impressive cock that made Amanda’s eyebrows shoot up.

Fingers Count

They started with fingers. Sue pulled Amanda close, kissing her deeply as her hand slid between Amanda’s thighs. Her fingers found Amanda’s clit, circling with slow, firm pressure. Amanda gasped, already wet from anticipation, her hips bucking as Sue slipped two fingers inside, curling them just right. Richard watched, stroking himself lazily, his eyes dark with lust. Amanda came fast, a sharp, shuddering orgasm that left her breathless, clinging to Sue’s shoulder as the waves crashed nearby.

Oral Exams

Next came the oral. Sue lay back on the sand, legs spread, and Amanda dove in eagerly. She licked along Sue’s folds, savoring the salt of her skin, then sucked gently on her clit. Sue moaned, loud and unrestrained, her hands gripping Amanda’s hair. Meanwhile, Amanda positioned herself so Sue could return the favor. Sue’s tongue was relentless, flicking and probing as Amanda rocked against her mouth. The dual sensation, giving and receiving, sent them both spiraling. Sue came first, her thighs trembling around Amanda’s head, and Amanda followed seconds later, a muffled cry escaping as she pressed into Sue’s lips. Richard groaned from the sidelines, clearly enjoying the show.

Legs Mingling

Then they scissored. Sue sat up, pulling Amanda into position so their legs intertwined, wet cores pressing together. They rocked in sync, grinding with desperate rhythm, the friction building heat between them. Amanda’s breath hitched as Sue gripped her hips, pulling her closer, their clits rubbing with delicious pressure. The sensation was intense, raw, primal, and they locked eyes, sharing the moment. It didn’t take long; Amanda came with a low moan, her body shaking, and Sue followed, her head tipping back as pleasure rippled through her.

Exhausted, they collapsed, laughing softly as they pulled their knickers back on and sprawled out to sunbathe.

Richard Joins Them

Amanda sighed, “That was special, Sue. The best yet. Thank you.” Sue grinned, “It’s not over.” She beckoned for Richard to join them. Trotting toward them, naked, his large cock bouncing with each step. Amanda’s jaw dropped. “You’re lucky,” she whispered to Sue, who smirked, “He’s your gift too.”

Richard knelt beside Amanda, easing her knickers off. She was still slick from earlier, and he slid two fingers inside her, pumping slowly as his tongue teased her. His touch was firm, precise, and Amanda’s arousal flared instantly. She came hard within minutes, her walls clenching around his fingers as waves of pleasure crashed through her, leaving her gasping and dazed.

Sue, knickers off again, straddled Richard’s face, grinding against his eager mouth. “Get on board,” she told Amanda, nodding at his erect cock. Nervous but thrilled, Amanda straddled him, lowering herself onto his thick length. He stretched her deliciously, filling her completely, and each claimed motion stroked her deep inside. She rode him to a first orgasm, slow, building, her body trembling as she adjusted to his size. The second came faster, a sharp jolt as he hit just the right spot, leaving her panting and sweaty.

Richard flipped Amanda onto her side, spooning her from behind, his cock sliding back in with ease. Sue leaned in, her tongue flicking Amanda’s clit as Richard thrust steadily. The dual assault was overwhelming, Amanda’s orgasm hit like a tidal wave, her body arching, a scream tearing from her throat as every nerve lit up. Richard pulled out just in time, groaning as he came, hot spurts landing in Sue’s waiting mouth. She swallowed with a grin, and the three collapsed in a satisfied heap, the cove quiet except for their heavy breathing.

Amanda lay there, spent and glowing, marveling at Sue’s gift, and the wild, perfect day it had become.

March 17, 2025
Selena – The Staff Room

A week had passed since their kitchen escapade, and the tension between Richard and Selena had only grown thicker. Every glance across the schoolyard, every brush of shoulders in the hallway, was a silent promise of more. It was Friday afternoon, and the school was quiet, most staff had bolted for the weekend. Richard had been called in to fix a leaky radiator in the staff room, and Selena, ever resourceful, volunteered to “help” with the cleanup.

The staff room was a cozy, cluttered space, old armchairs, a coffee-stained table, and a radiator that hissed like an angry cat. Richard knelt by it, wrench in hand, his broad shoulders flexing under a tight navy shirt. Selena sauntered in, locking the door behind her with a click that made his head snap up. She wore a low-cut red dress under her apron, the fabric clinging to her buxom figure like it was painted on. “Thought you might need a hand,” she said, her voice dripping with intent.

“Only if it’s yours,” Richard shot back, wiping sweat off his brow as he stood, towering over her. His eyes raked down her body, lingering on the deep V of her cleavage. “That dress oughta be illegal in a school.” She smirked, stepping closer, her heels clicking on the linoleum. “Good thing the kids are gone, then. No one to tell on us.”

She didn’t waste time. Grabbing his shirt, she pulled him down for a kiss, hot, messy, and full of pent-up need. Richard groaned into her mouth, hands sliding to her ass, squeezing through the dress as he backed her against the table. “Been thinking about you all week,” he muttered, nipping her lip. “That kitchen fuck’s been replaying in my head.” Selena’s laugh was wicked. “Let’s give you something new to obsess over.”

She shoved him into an armchair, the springs creaking under his weight, and straddled him, her dress riding up to reveal black lace knickers. Richard’s hands were on her thighs in an instant, pushing the fabric higher. “No bra again?” he asked, voice rough, as he tugged the neckline down. Her heavy breasts spilled out, nipples already hard, and he latched onto one, sucking greedily while his hand kneaded the other. Selena moaned, grinding against the bulge in his jeans. “Wanted you ready for me,” she gasped.

He fumbled with his fly, freeing his cock, still as impressive as she remembered, thick and pulsing. She didn’t bother with her knickers, just yanked them aside and sank onto him, taking him to the hilt in one slick slide. “Fuck, Selena,” he growled, gripping her hips as she started to ride him, her tits bouncing in his face. She leaned forward, bracing her hands on his shoulders, and set a brutal pace, chasing that sweet friction against her again.

The chair rocked dangerously, but neither cared. Richard thrust up to meet her, his cock slamming deep, hitting that spot that made her eyes roll back. “You’re a bloody menace,” he panted, one hand slipping between them to rub her clit. Selena’s moans turned to cries, her nails digging into him. “Harder, you bastard, make me come again!” He obliged, pounding into her, the wet slap of their bodies filling the room.

Her orgasm crashed over her fast, a shuddering, screaming mess as she clenched around him, soaking his lap. “Richard, oh, fuck, yes!” she wailed, trembling as he kept thrusting, drawing it out until she was a boneless heap against him. He wasn’t far behind, two more deep strokes, and he came with a guttural groan, spilling inside her, his hands locked on her hips like he’d never let go.

They stayed there, panting, her forehead pressed to his, the radiator still hissing in the background. “Think we broke the chair,” Richard chuckled, kissing her sweat-damp neck. Selena grinned, shifting to feel him still inside her. “Worth it. Next time, your van, I wanna see how you handle me in the back.” He smirked, already hard again at the thought. “Deal, love. Maintenance just got a lot more fun.”

March 16, 2025
Anna – The Massage

Coffee and Cake

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the sweet scent of carrot cake as Anna stirred her latte, her eyes flicking up to meet Debs’ across the small café table. It was their usual pre-yoga ritual, coffee, cake, and a good gossip. The morning sun streamed through the window, casting a warm glow over Debs’ freckled cheeks, which were already beginning to flush as the conversation took a predictable turn.

“So,” Anna said, smirking over the rim of her cup, “Richard. The man every woman in class is secretly, or not so secretly, dying to take home. You left with him last week, didn’t you?”

Debs’ spoon clinked against her mug a little too loudly. She avoided Anna’s gaze, focusing instead on slicing her cake into precise, tiny bites. “Yeah, well… we walked out together. No big deal.”

Anna raised an eyebrow, leaning forward. “No big deal? Debs, you’re practically glowing. What happened? Spill.”

Debs’ flush deepened, creeping down her neck. “He… uh, he offered to give me a massage. My hip’s been acting up, you know that.”

“A massage?” Anna’s tone was teasing, her eyes glinting with mischief. “And how did that go?”

“It was… good. Really good.” Debs shifted in her seat, her voice dropping. “He’s got strong hands. Fixed my hip right up.”

Anna grinned, sensing there was more. “Strong hands, huh? Did they wander anywhere… interesting?”

Debs’ face was now a vivid shade of pink. She took a sip of coffee, stalling. “Well… let’s just say it wasn’t just my hip he took care of.”

Anna’s grin widened. She leaned in closer, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “So, what you’re saying is… he gave you a little extra relief? A proper hand job?”

Debs choked on her coffee, coughing into her napkin. “Anna! God, keep it down!” But her eyes sparkled as she murmured, “It was… fantastic. Okay? Leave it at that.”

Anna chuckled, satisfied for now. She wasn’t about to push further and risk Debs clamming up, or revealing something even juicier, like how Richard’s cock had definitely played a starring role. Instead, she shifted the topic. “Speaking of aches, my leg’s still killing me. That damn hamstring.”

Debs, relieved to move on, seized the chance. “You should try Richard. Seriously. He’s magic.”

Anna’s lips twitched. “Magic, huh? Maybe I will.”

Yoga Class

The yoga studio buzzed with quiet chatter as Anna and Debs arrived, spotting Richard just outside the changing room. He gave them a nod, his dark hair falling slightly over his forehead, and the three of them walked in together. Normally, Debs and Anna flanked Richard in the second row, but today Anna veered off, claiming a mat in the front row, directly in front of him. Debs shot her a questioning look, one eyebrow arched. Anna just winked.

In the women’s changing room, Debs watched as Anna peeled off her jeans and slipped into a pair of loose grey shorts, short enough to turn heads, baggy enough to leave plenty to the imagination. What caught Debs off guard, though, was the lack of underwear beneath them. No knickers, no thong, nothing. Anna’s top was equally casual, a loose tank that hung off her frame, and, another surprise, no bra. Debs blinked. “Going for the minimalist look today?”

Anna shrugged, adjusting her shorts with a sly smile. “Comfort, Debs. It’s all about comfort.”

During the class, Debs couldn’t help but sneak glances at Anna. Every downward dog, every warrior pose, seemed calculated. Anna’s shorts gaped just so, her top shifted to reveal the curve of her breast, all perfectly angled to give Richard an eyeful from his spot behind her. Debs bit back a smirk. Her friend was shameless.

After class, as they rolled up their mats, Debs caught Richard by the arm. “Hey, Anna’s been complaining about her leg. That hamstring’s still bothering her. Maybe you could give her one of your… special massages?”

Richard’s brows shot up, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before he masked it with a grin. “Yeah, sure. I’d be happy to help.”

Anna, overhearing, flashed a smile. “That’d be great. Shall we?” She didn’t wait for an answer, grabbing her bag and heading out with Richard in tow. Debs watched them go, shaking her head. She had a feeling Anna’s leg wasn’t the only thing about to get some attention.

Massage

The room was dim, lit only by a soft lamp in the corner, as Anna lay face-up on Richard’s massage table. A small hand towel rested across her hips, barely covering her pussy, leaving the rest of her bare. Richard’s hands had already worked wonders on her thigh, kneading the tight muscle until the ache melted away. She sighed, sinking deeper into the table.

“Anywhere else need attention?” Richard asked, his voice low and professional, though there was a hint of something else beneath it.

Anna met his gaze, her lips curling into a slow smile. “Yes, actually.” With a flick of her wrist, she cast the towel aside, letting it fall to the floor. Her legs parted slightly, just enough to make her invitation clear.

Richard’s eyes darkened, but he didn’t hesitate. He stepped closer, his hands hovering for a moment before settling into place.

Fingers

His fingers moved with precision, tracing the contours of her inner thighs before sliding upward. Anna’s breath hitched as he brushed against her clit, a feather-light touch that sent a jolt through her. “There,” she murmured, her voice husky. “A little firmer. Circles.”

Richard obeyed, his thumb pressing into her clit, moving in slow, deliberate circles. She arched slightly, guiding him. “Yes, like that. Now… inside. Curl your fingers up, there’s a spot…”

He slid two fingers into her, curling them as instructed, and found it, the ridged patch of her G-spot. She gasped, her hips bucking as he stroked it, his thumb still working her clit in tandem. The sensation built fast, a tight coil of heat in her core. “Faster,” she breathed, and he complied, his rhythm relentless.

The first orgasm hit her like a wave, crashing through her body, her thighs trembling as she clenched around his fingers. She barely had time to catch her breath before he adjusted his angle, pressing harder against her G-spot. “Again,” she demanded, and he didn’t disappoint. The second climax ripped through her, sharper and deeper, leaving her panting, her skin slick with sweat.

Mouth

Before she could fully recover, Richard shifted. His hands parted her thighs wider, and then his mouth was on her, hot, wet, and impossibly skilled. His tongue flicked over her clit, teasing at first, then settling into a steady rhythm that made her moan. Two fingers slipped back inside her, her pussy now drenched, and he curled them again, hitting that sweet spot with every thrust.

Anna’s world narrowed to the sensations: the slick heat of his tongue, the stretch of his fingers, the way her body seemed to melt and ignite all at once. He sucked gently on her clit, and she cried out, her hands fisting the sheet beneath her. The first orgasm came hard, a full-body shudder that left her gasping. He didn’t stop, his tongue swirling faster, his fingers pumping deeper, and a second climax followed, even more intense, her vision blurring as she rode it out.

Rest

Richard pulled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and shifted to a gentler touch. His hands returned to her body, starting with her calves, which had tightened into hard knots from her earlier convulsions. He kneaded them with slow, firm pressure, his thumbs digging into the muscle until she felt the tension unravel. The room was quiet save for the soft rustle of his movements and her own steadying breaths, the air cool against her sweat-slicked skin.

He moved to her feet next, pressing his thumbs into the arches with a rolling motion that drew a low sigh from her lips. The sensation was grounding, almost meditative, as he worked each toe, stretching them gently to release the last vestiges of strain. “Still with me?” he asked, his voice a warm murmur that seemed to vibrate through the table.

“Barely,” she replied, her words thick with languor. “Keep going.”

He chuckled, a soft sound that made her smile despite herself, and shifted his attention to her thighs. His palms swept over them in long, soothing strokes, smoothing out the tremors that lingered from her earlier exertion. The oil he’d rubbed into his hands earlier left a faint scent of lavender, mingling with the musk of her own arousal, and she inhaled deeply, letting it anchor her. He lingered on her hamstrings, coaxing the muscles into submission with a patience that felt almost reverent, his fingers tracing the lines of her body like an artist perfecting a sketch.

“Roll over,” he said after a while, his tone calm but carrying a quiet authority. She complied, flipping onto her stomach with a lazy stretch, her limbs heavy and pliant. He started on her back, his hands gliding over her spine, the heels of his palms pressing into the tight spots along her shoulder blades. She groaned softly as he worked a particularly stubborn knot, the ache dissolving under his touch. His fingers fanned out, kneading her shoulders with a rhythm that lulled her deeper into relaxation, then trailed down her arms, stretching them out to the sides and massaging the muscles until they felt like liquid.

He moved lower, his hands settling on the curve of her lower back, just above her hips. His thumbs pressed into the dimples there, circling slowly, and she felt a shiver of relief ripple through her. He lingered, working the area with care, his touch firm yet tender, until every ounce of tension had melted away. By the time he finished, she was a puddle on the table, her breathing slow and even, her body utterly surrendered to the calm he’d crafted.

Cock

He stood at her head, finishing her shoulders, when Anna reached up, her fingers hooking into the waistband of his trousers. She tugged them down, revealing a thick, rigid cock that sprang free, its tip glistening as she pulled back the foreskin, veins pulsing along its length. She leaned forward to take him in her mouth, her lips brushing the velvety head, but he stepped back, a faint, teasing smile on his lips.

He moved to her feet. Still face-down, she felt his hands, warm and firm, part her thighs, his thumbs grazing the sensitive skin where her legs met her hips. He climbed onto the table, his weight dipping the surface slightly as he settled between her legs, pushing them wider until she was fully exposed. His fingers lingered for a moment, tracing her slick entrance, before she felt the blunt, hot tip of his cock nudge against her.

He guided himself with one hand, the other gripping her hip, and pressed forward. The first inch stretched her deliciously, the thick head breaching her with a slow, deliberate push that made her moan into the table. He paused, letting her adjust to his size, then slid deeper, his shaft filling her inch by inch until he was buried to the hilt. She felt every ridge, every pulse of him inside her, the pressure exquisite against her still-sensitive walls.

He began to move, drawing back until just the tip remained, then thrusting forward with a long, measured stroke. The angle was perfect, his cock dragged against her G-spot with every pass, reigniting the fire he’d stoked earlier with his fingers. She clenched around him, her breath hitching as he set a rhythm, slow at first, letting her feel the full length of him sliding in and out. The tip of his cock seemed to kiss that sweet spot each time, a deep, throbbing sensation that built with every thrust.

“Harder,” she gasped, and he obliged, his hips snapping forward with more force, the sound of skin meeting skin filling the room. Her body rocked against the table, her fingers curling into the sheet as the pleasure intensified. The heat coiled tight in her core, and then it snapped, an explosive orgasm that tore through her, her pussy spasming around him, milking his cock as she cried out. The sensation was overwhelming: the way his thick shaft stretched her, the relentless pressure on her G-spot, the slick friction as he kept moving through her climax.

He didn’t stop. His hands gripped her hips tighter, lifting her slightly to deepen the angle, and she felt him shift inside her, the tip of his cock now hitting even more precisely. Another orgasm built almost instantly, spurred by the memory of his fingers and the reality of his cock, its girth, its heat, the way it pulsed inside her. She came again, harder this time, her vision sparking white as her body trembled beneath him, her moans turning to breathless whimpers.

Richard slowed for a moment, letting her catch her breath, but then resumed with long, steady strokes, each one drawing out the aftershocks until she was teetering on the edge again. The sensation of his cock moving inside her, the smooth glide of the tip, the stretch of her walls, the deep, rhythmic pressure, pushed her into a state of near-constant climax. One orgasm bled into the next, her body shaking, her voice raw as she surrendered to the relentless pleasure, lost in the feel of him driving her higher with every thrust.

March 14, 2025
Selena – After Hours

The Waiting Game

The school day dragged on, the clock ticking slower than a snail on sedatives. Richard lingered in the kitchen, pretending to double-check the fittings, stealing glances at Selena as she served up the last of the lunches. Her apron hugged her buxom figure like a second skin, and every time she bent to scoop gravy, he felt his overalls tighten. She caught his eye once, smirking as she licked a drop of sauce off her finger, and he knew they were both counting the minutes until the bell rang.

Selena wiped down the counters with exaggerated care, her hips swaying like she was putting on a private show. “Patience, tall man,” she murmured, brushing past him so her chest grazed his arm. “Good things come to those who wait.” Richard grunted, adjusting himself discreetly, his mind already racing ahead to what they’d do once the kids and staff cleared out.

Lock-Up

The final bell echoed through the halls, and the school emptied out in a chaos of footsteps and chatter. Selena locked the kitchen door behind the last straggling colleague, her eyes glinting with mischief as she turned to Richard. “All ours now,” she said, untying her apron and tossing it aside. Her soft pink blouse clung to her curves, and he could see the outline of her nipples pressing through, no bra today, he noted with a hungry grin.

Richard leaned against the counter, towering over her, and patted his toolbox. “Got something impressive to show you,” he said, voice thick with promise. He flipped it open, pointing to a hefty wrench, long, thick, and gleaming. “This isn’t the only tool I’m good with.” Selena’s laugh was low and dirty, her fingers moving down his chest, unzipping his overalls. “Prove it, then,” she challenged, stepping closer until her breasts pressed against him.

The Tease

He closed the tool box and grabbed her waist, lifting her effortlessly onto the counter. Selena gasped, then giggled, her legs parting as he stepped between them. “Let’s see what you’ve got, big man,” she purred, pushing the overalls off his shoulder. She didn’t waste time, his boxers hit the floor, revealing his cock, already hard, delightfully thick, straining toward her. Her eyes widened, then narrowed with delight. “Fuck me, that’s a tool,” she breathed, reaching out to stroke it.

Richard groaned at her touch, his hands sliding under her blouse to cup her heavy breasts. “Been wanting these all day,” he muttered, thumbs circling her nipples until they stiffened. She arched into him, her breath hitching, and yanked her top off, letting her tits bounce free. “Then take ‘em,” she said, guiding his head down. His mouth latched onto one, sucking hard, while his fingers teased the other, her moans filling the kitchen.

The Demand

Selena slid off the counter, turning to brace her hands against it, her ass pushing back toward him. “From behind,” she demanded, voice husky with need. Richard didn’t need telling twice. He yanked her skirt up and her panties down, exposing her slick, ready pussy. “Fucking hell, you’re soaked,” he growled, gripping her hips. She wiggled against him, taunting, “What’re you waiting for? Show me what that cock can do.”

He lined up, his thick head stroking her clit, then nudging her entrance, then thrust in deep, filling her in one smooth stroke. Selena cried out, her walls clenching around him as he pressed hard against her G-spot. “Oh, shit, right there!” she gasped, rocking back to meet him. Richard’s hands roamed her sides, then up to her swinging tits, squeezing as he started a slow, deliberate rhythm, each thrust making her moan louder.

Tension Builds

The kitchen echoed with the slap of skin on skin, the air thick with heat and lust. Richard picked up the pace, his cock slamming into her, hitting that sweet spot over and over. Selena’s fingers gripped the counter, knuckles white, her breaths coming in ragged pants. “Harder, you bastard,” she begged, and he obliged, pounding into her with a force that rattled the pots on the rack above. Her breasts bounced wildly, nipples grazing the cool steel edge.

He reached around, fingers finding her clit, rubbing in tight circles as he fucked her senseless. “Gonna make you scream,” he grunted, feeling her tighten around him. Selena’s head tipped back, her voice breaking into a string of curses, “Fuck, fuck, yes!”, as the pressure built. His cock pressed relentlessly in, and her legs started to tremble, the devil inside her roaring to life.

The Arrival

Selena’s orgasm hit like a freight train, her pussy clamping down on him as she screamed his name. “Richard, oh God, fuck!” Her body shook, waves of pleasure ripping through her, her juices coating his cock as he kept thrusting, her full length. He held her hips tight, growling as her spasms threatened to milk him, his own release teetering on the edge. “That’s it, love, come all over me,” he rasped, his voice raw.

She slumped forward, panting, still impaled on him, her bare breasts pressed against the counter. Richard slowed, then pulled out, spinning her around to kiss her hard, tongues clashing in a messy, desperate tangle. “Best fucking maintenance job I’ve ever done,” he muttered against her lips, one hand sliding down her sweat-slick stomach to tease her soaked folds again. Selena grinned, breathless. “Stick around, tall man. Kitchen’s not the only thing needs fixing.”

The Pace Changes

Richard’s breath hitched as she stepped closer, her hands sliding up his chest. “Sit me back up there,” she said, nodding toward the counter, her voice low and commanding. He didn’t hesitate, gripping her waist and lifting her effortlessly again, setting her down with her legs dangling over the edge. She spread them wide, inviting him in, her pussy still glistening and swollen from their earlier round. “From the front this time,” she whispered, pulling him closer by the neck. “Slow. I want to feel every inch of you.”

Richard stepped between her thighs, his hands sliding up her sides to cradle her face as he kissed her deeply, slower this time, savoring the taste of her. Selena moaned into his mouth, her arms wrapping around his shoulders, pulling him tight against her. His cock nudged her entrance, and she tilted her hips up to meet him, guiding him in with a soft, needy whimper. He entered her deliberately, inch by thick inch, letting her feel every ridge and pulse as he filled her completely.

Another Release

“Oh, fuck, yes,” she breathed, her head tipping back as he settled deep inside her. Their bodies pressed together, her bare breasts flattening against his chest, nipples hard and sensitive against his skin. Richard’s hands dropped to her hips, holding her steady as he began to move—slow, sensual thrusts that made her gasp with every roll of his hips. Her legs hooked around his waist, heels digging into his ass to pull him closer, deeper. “Just like that,” she murmured, her voice trembling with pleasure.

Their eyes locked, the air between them thick with heat and unspoken promises, as he fucked her with a tenderness that burned as hot as their earlier frenzy. Her fingers tangled in his hair, her lips brushing his ear as she whispered his name, their lovemaking a slow dance of passion that built toward another shattering peak.

March 12, 2025
Katie – the Kitchen

The kitchen was warm, the faint hum of the fridge the only sound breaking the quiet as Nurse Katie watched Richard step through her doorway. He’d always been an old friend, a familiar face from years past, with a rugged charm she’d flirted with more times than she could count. There was a spark there, a quiet desire that flickered beneath their easy banter, and it was that pull that had her calling him when her oven stopped heating. Not a handyman, not a stranger, just Richard.

He arrived with a toolbox in hand, his broad shoulders filling the frame of her small kitchen. “Let me take a quick look,” he said, his voice low and steady, before crouching down to inspect the oven. After a moment, he stood, brushing his hands on his jeans. “Gonna need to haul it out and check the wiring. I’ll change into something I can work in, don’t want to mess up your floor.”

Katie nodded, her eyes lingering as he headed upstairs to her bathroom. When he returned, he wore a single-piece denim coverall, the kind that zipped up the front, hugging his frame in a way that made her breath catch. As he walked down the hall toward her, she noticed something, a subtle movement at the top of his left leg, near his groin. It wasn’t a tool in his pocket, she was certain of that. It was the shape of him, long and heavy, shifting with each step. Her pulse quickened, a flush creeping up her neck.

Richard set to work, pulling the oven from its slot with practiced ease. In less than half an hour, he’d found the problem, a loose electrical connection, he fixed it, and started sliding the appliance back into place. But as he maneuvered it, a knife left carelessly on the counter snagged his coverall, slicing a shallow cut into his side. He winced, a sharp hiss escaping his lips.

“Richard!” Katie was at his side in an instant, her nurse’s instincts kicking in. “Take that off, let me see.” She grabbed her first aid kit from under the sink, her tone firm but laced with concern. He hesitated, then unzipped the coverall, stepping out of it to reveal loose boxer shorts and a small patch of blood staining the fabric near his hip.

“Sit,” she ordered, pointing to a stool. He obeyed, and she knelt before him, gently lifting the leg of his boxers to expose the cut. It was small, barely more than a scratch, but she cleaned it with care, her fingers brushing his warm skin as she applied a plaster. When she finished, her hand lingered on his thigh, the heat of him seeping into her palm. Slowly, almost unconsciously, her fingers drifted upward, grazing something firm and heavy against the back of her hand. She froze, her breath shallow, knowing exactly what it was.

“Stay there,” she murmured, standing abruptly. “You should drink something.” Turning to the cupboard, she reached for a glass, her back to him. Her fingers found the zipper of her dress, and with a deliberate tug, she lowered it past her full breasts, the fabric parting to reveal the soft curves beneath. She filled the glass with mineral water from a bottle, then turned back to him, catching the way his eyes roamed downward. His gaze traced the edge of her cleavage, lingering where the dress dipped low enough to expose the bottom curve of her breasts. He shifted on the stool, and her eyes flicked to his lap, his cock twitched in his boxers, noticeably larger now.

She stepped closer, leaning over his legs instead of standing beside him, and handed him the glass. Her hand rested on his lap, dangerously close to the growing bulge. His response was tentative at first, his fingers brushing her shoulder, then sliding down to stroke the sensitive skin of her neck. Their eyes met, and then their lips, a deep, hungry kiss igniting between them. His hand moved lower, cupping her breast through the open dress, his work-roughened palm grazing her nipple. She gasped into his mouth, the sensation sparking a wave of heat through her core, and their kiss deepened, tongues tangling with rising urgency.

Katie pulled back, her breath ragged, a teasing smile playing on her lips. She tugged the zipper lower, letting the dress hang loose, then reached for his waist. With a swift motion, she slid his boxers down, freeing his cock. It sprang out, thick and long, heavy veins pulsing along its length, swollen but not yet fully hard. She reached into her dress pocket, palming a foil condom packet, then shrugged her shoulders, letting the dress fall to the floor. She stood naked before him, her skin flushed, her body unadorned. “Good thing my underwear matches,” he said with a low chuckle, his voice rough with desire.

He stood, his cock rising higher as he stepped toward her. She pressed the condom into his hand and hoisted herself onto the edge of the countertop, spreading her legs apart. He knelt before her, his fingers finding her first, tracing her small, neat pussy with a tenderness that made her tremble. She was already wet, her arousal slick against his touch, and when his fingers glided inside her, she gasped, her hands gripping his head. His mouth followed, lips closing over her clit, teasing her with slow, sensual strokes of his tongue. Her body arched, pleasure building in waves, and soon she shattered into an orgasm, her moans filling the quiet kitchen.

He didn’t stop. His fingers curled inside her, his mouth relentless, driving her toward a second peak. Just as she teetered on the edge, he pulled back, tearing open the foil and rolling the condom onto his now rock-hard cock. He stood, using the thick tip to stroke her clit, reigniting her pleasure. She came again, quick and sharp, her body trembling as the waves crashed over her. Between her gasps, he slid inside her, his length stretching her tight, wet heat with a slow, deliberate thrust.

Their lips met again, the kiss deep and unhurried, mirroring the rhythm of his strokes. He moved with long, sensual thrusts, filling her completely, the heavy veins of his cock dragging against her inner walls. She was tight around him, her pussy gripping him with every motion, slick and hot with her arousal. Time seemed to stretch, the world narrowing to the feel of him inside her, the slow build of pleasure as he rocked deeper, then withdrew, only to plunge back in. Her hands clutched his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as she lost herself in the sensation.

He kept the pace steady, sensual, each stroke a deliberate caress that stoked the fire between them. Her breaths came in soft moans, her body trembling as another orgasm built, slower this time, richer. When it hit, she cried out, her walls clenching around him, and he groaned, his restraint faltering. She felt him tense, his thrusts growing slightly erratic, and then, just as her pleasure completed, he pulled out. With a swift motion, he removed the condom, his hand stroking himself once, twice, before he came, jets of warmth spilling across her breasts.

They stayed there, panting, the air thick with the scent of them. Katie slid off the counter, her legs shaky, and leaned into him, their foreheads touching. The oven hummed faintly behind them, fixed and forgotten, as they lingered in the afterglow of something long desired and finally claimed.

March 10, 2025
Ella – First Meeting

Ella perched at the hotel bar, her skin prickling with restless heat as she toyed with her wine glass. She’d scrubbed the day’s grind off in a steamy shower, trading her stiff suit for a loose top that grazed her curves and leggings so tight they moulded to her thighs, Richard’s admitted obsession, confessed in husky whispers over months of dirty calls and texts. Tonight, her work trip had aligned with his freedom, and the pent-up lust between them was a live grenade, ticking down.

Her phone buzzed. Here. Where you at? Her cunt throbbed at his words. Bar, left corner. Baggy top, black leggings, hurry the fuck up, she typed, smirking as she sipped her wine, legs squeezing together.

He strode in moments later, tall, all muscle and menace, his eyes slicing through the dim light until they locked on her. That filthy grin spread slow across his face, and her breath caught, pussy already slick. She stood as he closed in, legs trembling, and planted a teasing peck on his cheek his stubble rough, his scent a drug of cedar and sweat. They dropped into their seats, the air crackling. The bartender slid him a whiskey, but Ella’s focus was on his hands, big, rough, made for wrecking her.

“Drive okay?” she purred, voice thick, barely pretending at small talk.

“Fucking endless,” he growled, eyes devouring her leggings, tracing the outline of her thighs. “But I’m ravenous now, and not for food.” The raw edge in his tone made her clit pulse. She leaned in, lips brushing his ear. “So how do we… work up that hunger?”

His gaze turned molten. “By fucking you senseless first.” The words hit like a slap, and she squirmed, soaked. They tossed around the idea of dinner, bullshit pleasantries, before downing their drinks in sync, glasses clattering, and bolting for the lifts.

The lift doors shut, and Richard pounced. He slammed her against the wall, mouth crashing into hers, wet, filthy, all tongue and teeth. His hand dove between her thighs, cupping her through the leggings, grinding his palm against her swell until she whined into him, dripping through the fabric. She clawed his back, hips bucking, but the lift slowed, forcing them apart, panting, feral, as they stumbled to her room.

Inside, restraint shattered. They collided, kissing like starved beasts, tongues tangling, her nails raking his neck. Fully clothed, they hit the bed, her grinding her soaked crotch against the bulge in his jeans, his cock straining to break free. She yanked at his shirt, desperate to rip it off, when he pulled back, voice a low rasp. “Fuck, I’m sweaty, give me a quick shower.” He smirked, shedding his jacket as he swaggered to the en-suite, leaving her throbbing and unhinged.

The shower hissed on, and Ella’s control evaporated. She tore off her clothes, top flung, leggings peeled down her slick thighs, panties a drenched scrap and dove under the sheets, naked, cunt aching. The water cut off, and Richard emerged, bare and dripping, cock swinging heavy and thick, precum beading at the tip. Her mouth watered—he was massive, veined, a weapon built to ruin her.

He slid in beside her, grinning like a devil, and their mouths fused again, sloppy, bruising, all heat. His hands roamed, kneading her tits, twisting her nipples until she gasped, then sliding down to tease her sopping folds. She gripped his cock, too fat to fully wrap her fingers around, pulsing hot and stroked him, imagining it choking her throat, splitting her wide. He growled, shoving two fingers inside her, pumping hard, curling against her G-spot as his thumb mashed her clit. She bucked, whimpering, teetering on the edge, but he wasn’t done.

He flipped her onto her back, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand, the other guiding his cock to her entrance. He teased her first rubbing the fat head along her slit, coating it in her slick, tapping her clit until she begged, “Please, fuck me.” Then he thrust in, deep and brutal, stretching her so wide she screamed. He didn’t stop pounding her relentlessly, hips snapping, balls slapping her ass. She wrapped her legs around him, heels digging into his back, urging him deeper.

Sweat beaded on his brow as he fucked her harder, shifting angles hitting her sweet spot over and over, making her sob with pleasure. She clawed the sheets, then reached down, rubbing her clit in frantic circles as he railed her. The pressure built, unbearable, the orgasm slamming through her, spasming around his cock, gushing wet as she shrieked his name. He kept going, thrusting through her waves, dragging it out until her vision blurred.

But he wasn’t finished. He pulled out, cock dripping with her cum, and flipped her onto her stomach. “Ass up,” he commanded, voice rough. She obeyed, trembling, presenting herself, pussy swollen, glistening. He gripped her hips, plunging back in, fucking her from behind with savage force. The new angle had her moaning into the pillow, every thrust jolting her forward, his hands bruising her flesh. She slipped a hand beneath herself, teasing her clit again, chasing another high.

He slowed suddenly, torturing her, long, deep strokes, letting her feel every inch. “You like that?” he rasped, slapping her ass hard. “Yes, fuck, yes,” she gasped, pushing back against him. He sped up again, relentless, grunting as he slammed into her, the bed creaking under them. Her second orgasm built fast, white hot, blinding and she came again, harder, screaming as her cunt clenched, milking him.

He groaned, thrusts faltering, and pulled out, still rigid, slick with her juices. She collapsed, chest heaving, and glanced at him, his cock twitched, untouched by release. “Fuck, you okay?” he asked, voice hoarse, concern flickering.

“More than okay,” she panted, smirking through the haze. “You didn’t cum.”

“Not yet,” he said, that filthy grin returning. “I know you want a condom if I do” After a pause adding “Lets grab one.”

She laughed, breathless, already craving him to destroy her again.

March 9, 2025
Debs – Overtime

Debs watched Richard as he walked down the office, his three piece suit making him look dapper and cultured, a welcome change she thought from his normal scruffy jeans and t-shirt.

“Afternoon handsome, your a bit overdressed for a quick stocktake” She told him, admiring the cut of his trousers which moved at his groin in way that intrigued her, something was swinging by his left thigh as he walked towards her, something she knew all too well was bound to please.

“Just had an interview, so needed to impress” He told her as he strode up to her, placing one finger under her chin, lifting her face to point towards his. “Anyway you’re a fine one to talk, that’s a very formal outfit, have youa lso been looking for a new job”

Debs looked into his brown eyes and replied “No we’ve had County in, checking that the dottings and crossings. “Thought I would dress like the librarian they expect me to be”.

Her wool skirt suit was Chanel Style, with a round neck and knee-length skirt ensuring little skin was on show. As he looked down her body she undid the four buttons on the jacket allowing it to fall open to reveal a silk camisole top with a lace trim. His hands lifted this, stroking up her sides before moving across to her shapely breasts that were otherwise bear, her nippled popped at the touch of his strong fingers.

Her hands moved down to his belt, expertly unfastening it quickly before swiftly undoing his trousers, she had some experience with his suit and soon he was stood before her bare legged with his trousers bunched up around his feet. She had been right she saw, he had gone commando today and his cock hung heavily from his groin. Her hands soon found this and worked to improve his growing erection. She could feel him warm rod of flesh swelling in her hands and Debs grinned as she felt Richard’s response to her touch, the familiar weight of him in her hands stirring a thrill she never tired of. The office was quiet, the stockroom door slightly ajar, but the risk only fueled her excitement. She glanced up at him, his brown eyes darkening with desire, and gave him a teasing squeeze. “Interview must’ve gone well if you’re this relaxed,” she murmured, her voice low and playful.

Richard let out a soft groan, his hands tightening briefly on her shoulders before sliding down to cup her breasts again, thumbs brushing over her hardened nipples through the silk. “Well enough,” he managed, his breath hitching as she worked him with practiced ease. “But this—this is the real test of the day.” He smirked, leaning in to brush his lips against her ear. “You’re making it hard to focus on stocktake, Debs.”

He shifted his hips slightly, giving her better access, and glanced toward the door. “Hope County’s not planning a surprise return visit,” he added, though his tone suggested he didn’t much care if they did.

“Oh, let them come,” Debs replied with a wicked chuckle, her hands moving faster now, coaxing him to full hardness. She dropped to her knees, the wool of her skirt stretching slightly as she settled in front of him. The sight of his cock, thick and ready, made her mouth water. She looked up at him through her lashes, enjoying the way his jaw tightened as she leaned forward, her breath hot against his skin. “They’d just get a lesson in multitasking.”

Without breaking eye contact, she took him into her mouth, her lips stretching around him as she began to move. The taste of him, the heat, the slight saltiness—it was intoxicating. Her hands gripped his thighs, steadying herself as she set a rhythm, slow at first, then building as his breathing grew ragged.

Richard’s head tipped back, a low curse slipping from his lips as Debs worked her magic. His hands found her hair, fingers threading through the strands, not guiding but simply holding on as she took him deeper. The contrast of her prim librarian outfit and the wild, hungry way she devoured him sent a jolt through him. He’d always known Debs was a firecracker beneath her cool exterior, but this—right here in the stockroom—was a new level of bold.

“Christ, Debs,” he muttered, his voice rough. “You’re gonna ruin me for suits.” His hips twitched involuntarily, and he forced himself to stay still, letting her control the pace. The distant hum of the office phones and the occasional shuffle of footsteps outside barely registered—he was lost in her.

Debs hummed around him, the vibration drawing another groan from Richard as she picked up her pace. She loved this—the power, the intimacy, the way he unraveled under her touch. Her tongue swirled around the tip before she took him deep again, her throat relaxing to accommodate his size. One hand slipped between his legs, teasing his balls lightly, and she felt him tense, a sure sign he was close.

Pulling back just enough to catch her breath, she grinned up at him, lips slick and eyes gleaming. “Stocktake can wait,” she said huskily. “I’ve got a more pressing job to finish.” Before he could respond, she dove back in, determined to push him over the edge.

Richard’s grip tightened in her hair as the pleasure built to a breaking point. “Debs—fuck—” he gasped, his control slipping. Her mouth was relentless, hot and perfect, and that final tease of her fingers sent him spiraling. His hips jerked, and he came hard, a guttural sound escaping him as he spilled into her mouth. She didn’t pull away, taking it all with a skill that left him trembling.

When she finally released him, he leaned back against a shelf, panting, his suit jacket askew and trousers still pooled around his ankles. “You’re a menace,” he said, half-laughing, half-dazed, as he reached down to help her up.

Debs rose gracefully, wiping the corner of her mouth with a smug little smirk. “And you love it,” she shot back, smoothing her skirt and adjusting her jacket as if nothing had happened. She stepped closer, pressing a quick, teasing kiss to his lips before stepping back to admire her handiwork. Richard looked thoroughly debauched—hair mussed, tie crooked, and a flush on his cheeks that made him even more handsome.

“Better fix yourself up, handsome,” she said, nodding at his disheveled state. “Wouldn’t want the boss walking in and seeing you like this.” She turned to saunter back toward the stockroom door, tossing over her shoulder, “I’ll start on the inventory. You catch your breath.”

Richard shook his head, still catching his breath as he bent to pull up his trousers. “You’re gonna be the death of me, Debs,” he called after her, fastening his belt with shaky hands. He straightened his tie and ran a hand through his hair, trying to regain some semblance of the polished look he’d walked in with. But the grin on his face wouldn’t fade—he felt alive, electric, and damn if Debs didn’t know how to make a mundane day unforgettable.

He followed her out of the stockroom a moment later, suit intact but spirit decidedly ruffled. “Right,” he said, grabbing a clipboard from the counter. “Stocktake. Let’s see if I can count straight after that.”

Debs glanced back at him, her laugh bright and unapologetic. “I’d say you’ve already handled the hardest part of the day,” she quipped, picking up a scanner and starting on the first aisle. The air between them buzzed with a shared secret, a little spark of chaos in the otherwise orderly office. She didn’t know if his interview had landed him a new job, but one thing was certain—working with Richard was never going to be dull.

As they moved through the shelves, trading playful jabs and stolen glances, the stocktake became less a chore and more an extension of their game. For Debs, it was the perfect end to a day that had started with County’s scrutiny and ended with a taste of something far more satisfying.

March 8, 2025