3 comments/  32597 views/  12 favorites

Coupling Up

By: Robert_Furlong



Part of the 'Butt Monkey' series of stories by Robert Furlong


===

I was back at the small toilet building tucked away among the trees in the park.

Curiosity about what I'd seen there on my last visit had got the better of me and I'd left the office early with the excuse of having a bad stomach and the promise that I'd "work from home" (does anyone ever actually do that?). Even on the drive here I wasn't sure if I'd have the guts to actually park up and take the walk to the tiny building, but it turned out that my fascination with what men do together in such places was far stronger than my fear of getting caught.

It was earlier in the day than last time and so it was lighter and not so bitingly cold; nevertheless the park was almost empty of people. If I happened to see anyone I knew – especially anyone from work, as unlikely as that was – I was ready with my excuse. I'd been caught by surprise on my drive home by a sudden recurrence of the stomach bug which had made me leave early, and had urgently needed to get to the nearest toilet I knew of.

It felt distinctly odd to be doing this. Not only was it strange for me to be, for the first time, actively seeking sexual contact with other men; the same guy who, just two or three months earlier, would never even have dreamt of doing such a thing. But it was especially bizarre that I was doing this on the same day that I'd arranged to go out on an evening date with a woman: my first bona fide date in several years. A psychologist might have told me that the two things were somehow intricately connected in my subconscious; I didn't want to probe such things deeply enough to find out.

I'd parked up near the sports centre and had cut across the deserted tennis courts and children's play area to reach the grey stone building. All the time, as I'd slowly made my way towards the toilet, I'd felt excitement building inside me.

Might I see two men having sex together, like I had last time? Would one guy put his mouth on the other's bum if I asked him to? Would they invite me into their cubicle with them? Would they ask me to join in with them?

And more to the point: would I dare?

As I'd neared my destination, my erection had steadily hardened in my trousers at the prospect of what lay ahead. Putting my hand in my trouser pocket as I walked through the park, I'd rubbed its thickening shaft through the material of my underwear; enjoying mulling over the possibilities of what might await me in the toilet.

Would I finally get to rim a guy? How would it feel to lick another man's arse after so much anticipation? How quickly would I climax?

Might he want to rim me, like the guy in the clothes shop had? Which underpants was I wearing? How clean were they?

What if he wanted me to fuck him? Would I be able to do that? Stand behind him, with him bending over the toilet bowl, grab his hips and work myself into his arse?

Would I be able to get my cock inside him? How much of it would he be able to take?

And obviously I'd need a – oh shit...

It suddenly dawned on me that I didn't have any condoms.

Jesus, how could I be so stupid?

I contemplated walking to one of the chemists' shops in town but I realised it probably wouldn't be much use. One of the drawbacks of having a large endowment was the difficulty in finding condoms which would fit.

The first time a girl had asked me to use protection back in my teens, during some pretty steamy groping in the back of her parents' car, I'd managed to split every regular-sized sheath in the pack which she'd brought with her without even managing to slide one over the fattened head of my cock. Needless to say, the steam had pretty quickly dissipated.

Following that rather literal anti-climax, I'd gone to great lengths to find a condom that was large and wide enough comfortably fit my engorged member without choking it or making me lose my erection because it took so long to try and squeeze myself into it. I was determined that any future opportunities with the opposite sex weren't going to be thwarted due simply to the inadequacies of a sheath of latex.

After a few skulking visits to various chemists' shops tucked well away from my parents' inquisitive gaze, I'd found – following several disappointing experiments locked away in my bedroom – that even so-called 'XXL' and 'Magnum' size condoms were painfully confined. I could roll the rubber a good eight inches or so down my shaft, but the ring at the base would dig in too tightly for me to keep them on for more than a few minutes. I'd needed to hunt around in quite a few bigger shops further afield before I discovered that that there was an even bigger size, designed for "the most generous attribute", which was called 'U'. I'd bought a couple of packets, ignoring the chemists' disbelieving sneers that a gangly teenager like me could have a need such for a product, and found back at home that they were a reasonable fit. Even fully unfurled 'U' size condoms left couple of inches at the base of my cock which the sheath was too short to reach, but at least the girth was about right.

Since then, I'd always been careful to carry a few spare 'U's in my wallet whenever there was a chance that sex might be on the menu, but right now, on the way to what might have been my first taste of anal sex with another man, I realised that I'd left all my supplies in my bedside drawer at home and those were probably well out of date.

(The last time I'd had cause to get them out, I recalled, was during a chat about safe sex I'd had with Jake several years earlier. He'd been asked to roll a condom onto a courgette in a Biology class at school and had come home horrified about how he was supposed to get something so flimsy onto his organ which was already, according to him, "too fat for it to fit". I'd brought a packet of 'U's down from my bedroom and had unrolled one for him, explaining that, like shoes, condoms came in a variety of shapes and sizes. He'd marvelled at the scale of the thing, stretching it this way and that as if he were mentally trying it for size, and then had asked, with a cheeky smirk, if there was such a thing as a 'U plus'. I told him that it taken me enough time and embarrassment to find the size 'U' and that if he wanted bigger, he'd have to find them for himself. He'd asked if he could "borrow one" and I gave him a couple from my packet, telling him that this was definitely a loan which I didn't want returned.)

There was simply no point of making a detour into town. I knew from bitter experience that the biggest size stocked by most regular chemists' shops would be Durex 'Max' or 'XL' and, even with the best will in the world, they simply wouldn't fit once my shaft swelled to its full thickness.

I wondered if perhaps the other guy – the one I hoped was waiting for me in the toilet – might have had more foresight than me and might have brought a pack of condoms with him. But on second thoughts, it was obvious that he'd most likely bring out a standard pack of 'featherlights', and then, like some of the women I'd dated, would quietly put them back away when he saw what I had to offer.

No – as irritating as it was, I'd have to postpone my first taste of buggery. My cock would have to make do with my hand this afternoon, while my tongue enjoyed the real fun.

Unless, I were to... you know... just this once?

No, I decided flatly. There were enough risks in what I was doing without compounding my problems.

I entered the small building and saw that there was a man at the urinals with his back to me. He was tall with short black hair and was wearing a black fleece with the green 'ASDA' logo sewn into the material. Evidently he must work at a local supermarket.

I walked up to the urinal and positioned myself alongside to him, leaving what I judged to be a respectable amount of space between us.

Glancing in his direction, I saw that he was a young lad – probably in his early twenties and certainly not much older than Jake – with a nondescript face which the right girl might find handsome. He stared ahead at the grubby wall in front of him without betraying even the slightest flicker of interest that I had joined him at the urinal. He was holding his cock out from the front of his pale grey jogging bottoms – I didn't want to bring attention to myself by looking directly at it – and seemed to be waiting to pee.

Perhaps, unlike me, he was here for legitimate reasons. Perhaps he really had popped in to relieve his bladder.

I unzipped myself and reached in for my cock, feeling more than a little self-conscious to be doing so next to another man. Urinals are normally a no-go area for me as I hate to expose myself to anyone. However, it would have looked very odd for me just to stand there gormlessly at the urinal, so I overcame my misgivings and, with some difficulty, pulled my length, still not entirely soft after my earlier musings, through my fly.

As I stared down at myself, wondering whether I was supposed to try and urinate or just stand there with my prick hanging out, the guy from Asda looked over at me, first at my face and then down at my cock. He made it obvious that he was doing it, as if he wanted me to know that he was checking me out.

Perhaps this was part of the code of such places.

I looked at over at him and saw that he was slowly masturbating himself. His organ looked quite long and thick, and he slowly worked his pale, almost translucent foreskin back and forth across the dark helmet of its moist, fattened head.

I wasn't sure what to do now, so I gently wanked my own cock a few times, hoping he would take this as a sign of my complicity.

Abruptly he said, "If you want to suck it, it'll cost you."

I didn't understand. Cost me, how? Was this a threat?

I was on the verge of zipping up and getting the hell out of there when, perhaps seeing my surprise, he explained, "If you wanna suck me off, it'll be twenty quid. I'll fuck you for thirty. For fifty, you can fuck me."

He glanced at his watch. "But you'd better be quick. I haven't got long."

Perhaps his shift at Asda was due to start.

I muttered, still thrown by the prospect of having to pay for my fun, "I don't want to do any of those things."

He looked up at me with apparent interest.

"What do you want to do, then?"

His voice was deep and a bit husky, as though he was a heavy smoker. His manner seemed brusque; I got the impression that his natural habit would be to chase girls at the weekend with his mates rather than look for kicks in men's toilets.

I threw a look towards the open door of the building, concerned as to who might be out there walking along the tarmac path and overhearing our conversation.

"Is this place safe?" I asked quietly.

I had a newspaper article in the back of my mind about policemen – always young, hunky blokes – hanging around public toilets to catch out men who were out for some sex. "Sickos", the media always called them, and I realised that label could now be applied to me. 

Asda guy shrugged. "If anyone comes in, we're just two blokes having a piss, okay?"

I nodded. There was a risk, but perhaps it was worth taking. After all, this guy couldn't be a cop: he had made the first move. Isn't that against the law; don't they call that entrapment or something?

He looked impatient. "Come on then... what do you wanna do? I 'aven't got all fuckin' day."

I decided to take the plunge. This could well be the opportunity I'd been waiting for.

I leaned forwards and said, my voice hushed, "If you'd be up for it... I'd rather like to rim you."

He looked straight into my eyes. His were dark brown and at that moment quite piercing in their curiosity. Obviously no-one had asked to do that to him during the time he'd been earning extra pocket money like this.

After he'd satisfied himself that he'd heard me correctly, he replied, his own voice low as though such base acts could only be whispered about, "You wanna... you know... lick my arsehole?"

I wondered afterwards if he had thought I might not know what rimming was and had felt obliged to spell it out to me. Like it had been something I'd heard on a late night TV show and had thought it might be cool to say without really knowing what I was getting myself into.

I nodded. "Yeah..." I felt a small smile form on my lips as if I were admitting something naughty.

He raised his eyebrows and nodded slightly, as if telling himself that it takes all sorts, and then said, matter-of-factly, "That'll be twenty, then. Same as sucking."

I'd rather forgotten about the whole payment aspect of it. Did that make what we were doing more illegal or just more immoral?

I said, "I don't know how much I have on me, actually. Probably not that much."

He shrugged, like he didn't care. "Well that's the price, mate. Take it or leave it."

I pulled my wallet out, oblivious to the risk I was taking, and hastily leafed through the wodge of receipts and store cards which were stuffed inside it.

I found a couple of notes. "I've got fifteen... that's all..."

He didn't look very impressed and I was surprised by how disappointed I suddenly felt that I was likely to miss out on doing something I'd so looked forward to for the sake of barely the price of a magazine. I wasn't hugely enamoured with the idea of paying this guy for sex, but now that the prospect had been offered to have it withdrawn over such a paltry sum of money seemed grossly unfair.

Worrying that if he backed out now, I might not have the guts to come back here and go through this again with someone else, I added, rather desperately, "I've probably got a couple of quid in my back pocket..."

I think it was the apparent novelty of my request which tipped things in my favour. Although he was clearly trying to play it cool, it seemed obvious to me that he'd never been rimmed. I suspected that he had been with enough girls to know that it was extremely unlikely that he'd get any joy if he asked one of them to put her mouth on him down there, so if he was ever going to experience having his arse licked, this could be his one chance.

While making his dissatisfaction clear, to my relief he nodded and muttered, "You better make it quick."

Then he led the way into the nearest of the cubicles: the one in which the stubbled guy and his friend had so enjoyed themselves. I figured that the urinals must act as a sort of reception area for such transactions, allowing men to meet up and negotiate who would get to do what, with the cubicles affording the privacy for the done deal to take place. 

Feeling a little silly to still be holding my dick which was poking out of my fly, I followed him into the stall. I closed the door behind me, aware of how sleazy this was for the two of us to be together like this in a public toilet. This guy was so much a younger than me – just some lad who worked in a supermarket who wanted a bit of extra cash – and here I was paying him for sex. Most likely this wasn't something he enjoyed doing – to him I probably seemed hideously old and in any case I was the wrong gender for him – but he was prepared to tolerate what no doubt seemed like a deviant interest for the sake of making a fast buck.

He said, "You can rim me and wank yourself off, but that's it. No rubbing your cock up and down my arse, no spunking up against my arse... no nothing unless you happen to find a bit more cash."

I nodded. I was going to make a joke about him knowing how to make it seem so romantic, but I wasn't sure he'd understand. In any case, the word 'romantic' might cause him to misjudge my intentions and could scupper the whole thing.

I handed over the fifteen quid from my wallet and managed to scrape together one pound eighty in change from my pocket. He took the money, making it obvious he was less than impressed, and crumpled it into a ball which he stuffed into his fleece.

Then he turned around to face the wall and the toilet bowl and hitched his tracksuit bottoms down. He was wearing blue and purple stripy boxer briefs which he started to pull down but I stopped him.

"You can leave those pulled up," I instructed him. "At least for now."

He glanced over his shoulder towards me and threw me a disparaging look. Perhaps he thought that somebody who had paid sixteen pounds eighty shouldn't feel in any position to start issuing orders. Or more likely he wanted to show what he thought of dirty bastards who got off by sniffing the back of guys' underwear.

I squatted down behind him – I didn't want to kneel down on the floor in here – and he pulled the back of his fleece up to expose his arse to me. It suddenly dawned on me how the term 'shirt-lifter' had originated and I felt a little stupid that it hadn't occurred to me earlier.

His bum looked very attractive in his boxer briefs. His cheeks were round and muscular – either he regularly worked out or his job at the supermarket involved physical labour. The tops of his legs, just below the hemline, were quite hairy with a more dense growth on the inside of his thighs leading upwards towards his crack. This was going to be just what I'd been waiting for...

And yet, in spite of how much I'd yearned for this moment, part of me felt repulsed by how close my face was to this stranger's bottom. Part of me couldn't believe that, not only had I got myself into this unpleasant situation eliciting sex in a toilet stall with another man, but that I'd actually gone and paid for such a dubious pleasure.

Could I really be about to press my face into this man's backside? Could I really be about to sniff his arsehole like I was a dog on heat?

I'd expected to feel aroused by this – to be almost climaxing at the prospect of being so close to what I'd fantasized about for so long – and yet I wasn't. My cock had gone floppy and hung from my fly like it was spent.

I had the urge to stand up, apologise to this guy and make a quick exit from the toilet.

But I'd come this far. I had to follow it through: I had to see what it would be like. Even if it was disgusting, if I found the smell of him offensive and revolting and I wanted no more: I had to find out. If his backside stunk so bad it made me want to retch – I needed to know. It was best to find out now, this way, here in a toilet stall with a guy I was unlikely to ever meet again, rather than with someone I knew and would have to think up excuses for.

I could, after all, leave any time I wanted to. He had his money. I owed him no more.

I leaned forwards and slowly nuzzled my face into the colourful material of the back of his underpants, gently pressing my nose between his cheeks. I tentatively sniffed him – so cautious about what I might find – and immediately recognised the same earthy, intoxicating scent that had so excited me when I'd taken a smell of other men's underwear in the sports centre changing rooms and at home.

Without thinking, I muttered, "Yeah!" and pressed my face further into his backside, pushing the material of his briefs into his crack.

I was finally – after so many weeks of fantasizing about it and reliving what had happened with Guy – getting my face intimately close to another man's bum. I reached up and grabbed his hips, almost unable to believe how good it felt to be like this with him; crouching behind him with my face nuzzling between the cheeks of his arse.

I pulled him towards me and inhaled his scent – rich and musky and so much fresher than the smells on the underwear I'd bought online – as I forced my nose and mouth as far in between his muscular buttocks as I could. He pushed against me, working his arse against my face, as I gasped and panted to breathe in the full force of the thick, pungent odour of his backside. His whole crack was heavy with it, but low down, around where his hole would be lurking, it was at its strongest and I tried to shove my face into him there, grappling his waist towards me with both hands.


Coupling Up



Abruptly he pulled away from and, with a laugh, said, "Whoa, mate! Don't get my pants wet – I've gotta go to work in these!"

I realised that I'd been so overcome by the captivating allure of his scent that I'd been licking him through his underwear without even knowing it. There was a round patch of sopping wet material wedged into his crack level with his arsehole.

I sheepishly muttered, "Sorry... I didn't really mean to."

He quickly yanked his boxer briefs down, presenting his naked arse to my face. "There – do it that way, if you wanna lick me out."

His muscular buttocks were pert and squat, making his crack quite short and distinctly masculine in appearance. The skin of them was quite hairy, as I'd expected, and he had a thick forest of hair spilling from his crack. It was a divine sight and I licked my lips at the prospect of getting my face stuck between such magnificent cheeks.

Before I could do so, he laughed again and said, "Jesus Christ, mate. You're hung like a fuckin' horse!"

I glanced down and realised that my avid enthusiasm for pressing my face into this guy's arse had been shared by my cock which must have rapidly hardened at the first whiff of male rear. I chuckled awkwardly, aware of how ungainly I must look, squatting there behind him with my organ arching upwards in a state of full erection.

He grinned back at me and chuckled, "It's a good job you don't wanna fuck me!"

I looked up at him, hopeful. "Actually, I would quite like to..."

His smile quickly vanished. "Yeah, well it's a good job you didn't bring enough money to fuck me. Anyway, I don't think it would fit."

He turned back to face the wall and hitched his fleece up again to expose his naked buttocks. He pushed his arse towards my face, opening his legs slightly so that I could see his large, solid balls between them. Unlike his arse-crack, his bulging scrotum was practically hairless.

"Eat me out and wank yourself off, mate," he said with some urgency, jabbing his bum towards me. "I 'aven't got that long."

I pushed myself forwards and drove into him, using my nose to wedge open his crack so that I could push my tongue deep between his cheeks. His raw smell, laid bare without the covering of his underwear, was crude and powerful and his taste was overwhelmingly bitter in its intensity. Its effect on me, however, was electrifying.

I grabbed my cock and took up a rapid masturbatory rhythm as I hungrily licked at his hole, flicking my tongue back and forth against its tight, puckered folds so that I could fully taste its rich, potent flavours. He grabbed my head and worked me into him, pushing first my nose against his ring and then my mouth; rubbing my face up and down in his cleft. I licked and sniffed frantically, loving the sensation of him holding my head against his arse, while I rubbed my cock as fast as I could.

I heard him say, "Fuck, yeah..." as he pushed his arse more roughly against me and I basked in the strength of his thick, cloying odour. I realised there was a second rhythm to our movements: he was masturbating himself as I rimmed him and his hand was working his own organ almost as fast as I was rubbing mine.

He bent lower, opening his knees as wide as he could, and pushed my face between his legs so I could lick his balls. They were large and surprisingly immobile inside his scrotum, as though swollen hard against it and unable to move around. I took them in my mouth in turn, finding the sharpness of his sweat on them an interesting contrast to the bitterness of his backside.

He pulled away from me and turned around to face me, his hand still sweeping up and down the length of his now impressively large cock. The ridge on the fattened head of it was so prominent that his foreskin couldn't slide over it but just sort of rolled up behind it each time he yanked it forwards.

Taking his hand away, he grabbed my head and pulled me towards his outstretched cock. I knew what he wanted: didn't all men seem to want this except, for some reason, me?

I'd have preferred to have continued rimming him – his arsehole, I was sure, held yet more secrets which would yield to the coaxing of my tongue – but I felt obliged to comply with his more urgent demand. He had, after all, become so aroused because of what I'd been doing to him so it wasn't unreasonable that he'd expect me to help him discharge his excitement. He probably also assumed I'd enjoy relieving him orally: however, while sucking other men's cocks wasn't something I was repulsed by, it certainly wasn't something I would actively seek to do.

I opened my mouth and received him, intrigued by the sharp, acrid taste of his shaft as he began pushing himself into me and the leftover saltiness of his precum on the back of my tongue every time he withdrew.

He held my head steady as he steadily fucked my face, developing a quickening rhythm which had his balls slapping against my chin. While I wasn't greatly aroused by having another man's erection sliding in and out of my mouth, I enjoyed the strong, musky smell of his pubic hair every time he pushed into me, burying my nose in its coarse, tangled bush.

He grunted, "Yeah... fuckin' take it!"

After a few seconds, he stopped to shift his position slightly. He separated his feet as far apart as he could with his tracksuit bottoms and underwear around his shins, narrowed his knees around my torso as if to hold me more firmly in place, grabbed the sides of my head tightly and then began ramming his cock in and out of my mouth with an urgent, almost piston-like bucking of his hips.

I wasn't entirely comfortable at being used like this: reduced to being another man's masturbatory aid. I didn't like him holding me so forcefully while my mouth was pummelled by his frantic cock and my chin was battered by his large, slapping balls.

Nevertheless, I sucked at him furiously, incredulous at how quickly and how roughly he was thrusting himself back and forth, and swallowed some of the thick ooze of his precum which was starting to fill my mouth. I reached around him to grab his flexing arse-cheeks with my hands, working my fingers into the wet sticky crack which I'd so reluctantly relinquished and gently teasing his hot, slimy hole.

He grunted in encouragement, apparently enjoying having me playing with his backside. I felt his cock growing thicker and harder inside my mouth as his rhythm increased still further, and realised I was starting to have difficulty breathing as I was being held so tightly and my throat was being fucked with such force.

Suddenly, from the side of me, somebody whispered, "Rim him again!"

Horrified at the unexpected interruption, I struggled away from him. Someone was peering at us through the hole in the partition: the hole which I had looked through on my previous visit to these toilets.

Annoyed that his pleasure had been disturbed, Asda guy hissed, "It's just some old queen! Ignore him!"

From what I could see of the guy watching us, he didn't look that old. He was probably around my age and was wearing an outdoor jacket with a shirt and tie under it. He was likely to be an estate agent or some such from one of the streets which overlooked the park. He must pop across the road whenever he felt like taking in a show.

Asda guy tried to push his cock back into my mouth but I pulled back.

"Come on, suck me off!" he demanded.

"Lick his arse again... like you were before," the voice from next door whispered.

Asda guy looked down at me, his throbbing cock, wet from tip to base and with strings of my drool dangling from it, wavering impatiently in my face.

I nodded up at him in agreement. "Actually... I would like to continue rimming you."

Asda guy looked disdainful. Perhaps he was annoyed that I preferred getting intimate with his backside rather than with his cock, which he was obviously quite proud of and saw as the superior organ. Or perhaps he was irritated that I was, after all, the paying customer who'd put in a fair-and-square order to rim him at the beginning.

"You sick fuck," he spat, and started hitching his tracksuit bottoms and underwear up his legs.

At first I thought he'd had enough and felt I'd already received my sixteen pounds twenty worth of arse-to-face fun. But he just wanted to adjust his clothing so that he could get one leg up on the toilet seat, giving me access between his legs without him having to turn around. I don't know if he did this because he wanted to show his cock off to our voyeur next door or whether he hoped that this way around he could more easily manoeuvre himself into another blow job from me, but as long as I could reach my preferred target I was happy with the position.

I leaned forwards and nuzzled into his large, solid balls as his hand took up a moderate rhythm on his thwarted hard-on. I licked his bollocks thoroughly, for which he expressed his enjoyment by grinding them into my face as he masturbated, and then went lower to push my way between his legs to work my tongue along the hairy ridge guiding me towards my destination.

With the first few suggestions of the darker, more odoriferous scents lurking behind his balls, my cock quickly recovered the stiffness it had lost when we'd been interrupted, and my hand took up a rhythm of its own as I pushed as deep as I could between his legs. However, with the position we were in it was difficult to reach up into his butt-crack and, try as we both might, we couldn't get into a position where I could actually rim him. He opened his legs as wide as he could with his underwear and tracksuit bottoms confining him, and I craned my neck and extended my tongue as far as I was able, but my prize remained tantalisingly out of reach.

Asda guy pulled off me, took his foot off the toilet seat and muttered, "You're gonna have to turn around."

I thought at first he was suggesting that we change places.

"You mean, you want to try rimming me?" I asked, hopefully.

He looked me up and down, unimpressed, and said, flatly, "Mate – there isn't a hole on your body that my mouth is going anywhere near."

And a merry Christmas to you too, I thought.

"You're gonna have to face upwards," he elaborated. "Turn around and squat down with your head on the toilet seat."

I caught his drift and changed my position, swivelling around on my hunkers to face the toilet door and then, steadying myself by grabbing his legs, pushing my head between them so that I was looking up at his backside. Arching my back upwards off the floor in a way that I knew was going to ache the next day, I rested the back of my head on the toilet seat as he'd suggested.

The position wasn't as uncomfortable as I'd expected, and the strain on my back was more than compensated for by having the round cheeks and spit-moistened crack of Asda guy's arse looming just above me.

I heard our voyeur express his approval through the hole in the partition in anticipation of what he was about to see, as well as the quiet beating of his hand against his trousers as he worked his erection as it poked through his fly.

"Sit on his face," whispered the voice from the next stall. When I'd been in his place, a couple of weeks earlier, I hadn't realised I could act as director.

Asda guy squatted down, lowering himself onto my waiting face and using his hands to splay open his cheeks to expose his deep hairy cleft and, twinkling like a jewel inside it, his tiny pink hole.

The voice called in, "Yeah... smell it..." and I craned my neck upwards to inhale once again the deliciously carnal odour between Asda guy's cheeks. Through the hole, I heard the rhythm of our voyeur's hand rapidly double and become a steady thud-thud-thud against the front of his trousers, as I pushed my nose into the furry valley between Asda guy's buttocks.

The guy kept calling through the hole in the partition: "Go on... shove your nose right in... sniff his shitty hole..." Although Asda guy's backside was essentially clean, I liked the coarseness of our voyeur's language and was immensely turned on by the inference that I was doing something so squalid and deeply unacceptable.

Supporting myself against the toilet seat with one hand, I grabbed my cock with the other and took up a fairly rapid rhythm on myself. Seeing how aroused I was by where my face was, the guy next door grunted, "Fuck yeah... wank it, mate... wank your cock while you sniff his dirty arse!"

Asda guy pushed his arse further down onto me and our voyeur's hand sped up further on his cock, the frenetic banging of his wrist against his trousers sounding like a jackhammer. He commanded, "Lick his shitty hole... go on, mate... shove your tongue right up it... clean it out!"

I extended my tongue upwards and, as before, was immediately overwhelmed with waves of excitement on tasting the strong, pungent flavour of this young guy's arse-crack. His body started shuddering and I realised he was wanking himself again; enjoying, in spite of himself, the sensation of my tongue tickling and tasting his most intimate spot.

Just as had happened that first night in the hotel when I'd discovered how arousing it can be to do this with another man, I found myself in a state of near-ecstasy at the smells and tastes I was experiencing. He was grinding himself into my nose and my mouth, bucking his hips back and forth and pushing his arse down onto my face as he jerked himself. I think I was pushing my tongue up inside him, but I was so far gone by the sheer pleasure of having my face pressing up between his round, muscular cheeks, that I'm afraid the details of what exactly I did aren't clear to me.

I heard the guy in the next cubicle call out to Asda guy, "Let me in... I'll suck your cock while he licks you out... go on, mate... you can fuck me if you like..."

At that moment, it felt like Asda guy's anus started responding to my tongue. It seemed to pucker up and then relax, over and over, like a pair of lips reaching out to make cutesy kisses. I heard him grunting and felt splashes of warm wetness soaking my shirt and realised he was climaxing over me.

His hips kept bucking as he milked his balls over me. It seemed inevitable that he was ruining my tie as he did so, but I was too immersed in licking his anus to be overly concerned.

With his arse still squatting above me, I pounded at my cock as fast as my forearm was able to. I was eager to climax before he climbed off me and start pulling up his clothing; anxious to exploit this opportunity to bring myself to orgasm while I was in a position I'd fantasized about so much.

As the puckering of his hole abated and with my face still burrowing into his wet, hairy crack, it occurred to me that the orifice I was tonguing had undoubtedly been penetrated by the variously-sized cocks of a succession of other men; men who had happened to have rather more money in their wallets than I'd had that day. For some reason, the thought of his bum being recurrently fucked by so many men excited me enormously and I felt a familiar tingling in my testicles which heralded the onset of an orgasm.

I ran with the thought, and imagined the tiny wrinkled hole my tongue was lapping at having to widen and strain to accommodate all these cocks: condom-clad erections of all shapes and sizes poking through so many different men's trouser flies; men of all types and ages who had discovered, just as I was beginning to appreciate, that they enjoy using some young guy's arse to pleasure themselves from time to time; men who weren't averse to paying a stranger to be bent over and buggered with his tracksuit bottoms around his ankles in a toilet stall.

As the tingling in my balls turned into an explosion of pleasure, my own load sprayed across my shirt to join his.

Before my climax had subsided, while my balls were still discharging their last spurts of semen into a pool on my belly, he pulled away from me and staggered towards the far side of the cubicle.

With a glance at his watch, he muttered, "I gotta go," as if fearing I might have further requests in store.

I pulled myself up from the arched position I'd been in and, as I did so, saw gobs of our copious white mess dribble down from my shirt onto the black trousers I was wearing.

The washing machine was certainly going to be busy tonight.

I looked around for some toilet roll but had to make do with using a couple of tissues from my pocket to wipe my cock and dab up the worst of the semen splashes which my shirt, jacket and trousers had taken.

My tie seemed, I noticed, to have been spared from the onslaught. It had been a Christmas present many years ago from my ex-wife's parents. If it had been one that I actually liked no doubt it would have been soaked and stained beyond redemption.

Asda guy pulled up his tracksuit bottoms and fished around in his pocket. I wondered momentarily if he was going to give me my cash back, which would not have been unreasonable given that I'd done all the hard work, but instead he pulled out a packet of cigarettes and a lighter.

"Keep it real, mate," he said, lighting one up, and let himself out of the stall.

I stuffed my softening cock back into my underwear and did up my cum-spattered trousers. How long was I supposed to wait before following Asda guy out of the cubicle? Was there an etiquette about such things?

The guy in the next cubicle, who I'd rather forgotten about, whispered through the hole to me. "Do you wanna come in here? You can rim me, if you like..."

I was surprised at his suggestion: had he not seen me ejaculate?

Again I wondered if there was some sort of unwritten protocol governing such places which I wasn't yet party to. Was it regarded as bad form for a guy to leave the party before everyone had spent themselves?

Resolving that such niceties would have to be dispensed with here, I muttered my apologies and let myself out of the cubicle.

As I hurried out of the toilet, I cringed to see my neighbour from across the road walking down the path towards me. Isn't it just bloody typical? The one day I leave a gents' toilet covered in semen, I'm seen by someone I know.

Paul, my neighbour, smirked over at me as we passed and hopefully put the spattered state of my shirt and trousers down to a particularly unruly hand wash in the toilet building.

As I walked away I saw that he was heading into the toilets himself. I chuckled to myself that he might get more than he bargained for if he were to use the cubicle next to the guy I'd just left.

Walking back to my car, I felt seedy at what I'd just done. I could hardly believe I'd taken it as far as I did and actually paid a lad who worked in a supermarket to rim him in a public toilet. Jesus – if I'd had a bit more money and a condom on me, I'd have actually had him bend over for me to fuck him. I really would have stood there, in that seedy cubicle, grabbing a stranger by the collar of his fleece as I humped his hairy arse.

But then, that was the reason I'd come here, wasn't it? Not to pay a guy, of course, but for sex. Wasn't that the whole point of leaving work early and driving over to the park? Hadn't I even been getting excited at the prospect of what might happen as I'd walked towards the building?

Even so, what I'd done now felt wrong. It had been one thing to have stumbled across two guys getting intimate together in a cubicle and to watch them, but quite another to go there with the specific intention of soliciting other men for sex.

Not only that, but it suddenly dawned on me that I could quite easily have been mugged or beaten up in the toilets. Jesus – I'd had my wallet out in front of Asda guy, flashing it around like candy! It occurred to me with a jolt that he might have seen my name on my credit cards when I'd been riffling through it for cash. My name isn't that common: he might be able to work out who I am and where I live.




Coupling Up



It was unlikely, I had to concede, that Asda guy had any idea of how much power he could wield if he could figure out my identity. Nevertheless, I'd have to be more careful in future. I couldn't afford to end up being blackmailed by some lout with a cute arse who was astute enough to exploit my unusual 'interest' for his own gain.

I was relieved Jake was going over his mate's for tea, so I could get my semen-stained clothes in the washer as soon as I got home. If he asked why there were wet clothes in the machine when he got in – and there's no way he would since it didn't involve food or his bed – I'd say a valve had blown in one of the labs and squirted grease all over me.

I reached my car and got in. In the confines of the vehicle, the strong, acrid reek of male seed all over my shirt and trousers was almost overpowering. In spite of that, though, I could still smell the more squalid whiff of Asda guy's arse on my face and, looking at myself in the rear-view mirror, I noticed a wiry pubic hair stuck to my chin. I hoped my neighbour Paul hadn't spotted that.

I realised I'd have to take a long bath before I went to meet Debbie. Thank God she'd have no idea what I'd been doing this afternoon!

Pulling out of the car park, I resolved that I wouldn't do anything so dangerous again. What I'd done with Asda guy had been very enjoyable, I could hardly deny that, and it had confirmed to me, if proof were needed, that rimming other men was a huge turn-on for me, but the risk of being caught doing something so scandalous, or of being attacked or abused in such a secluded place, was simply too high to make it worthwhile.

I'd have to find some other way of feeding my demon; find some way of getting together with guys like myself.

But how?

===

Next story: Pleasant Thoughts

===



Coupling with an Old Friend



I was at home alone watching a kinky movie when the doorbell rang. I was wearing a short silk robe with nothing else underneath, so normally I wouldn't have answered the door, but I thought it was my daughter Shannon, who'd said she might drop by. Instead, I was surprised to find my old friend, Gary, on the doorstep. I hadn't seen Gary in years since he moved to Payson, so it took me a moment to recognize him. When I did, I was even more embarrassed by my state of undress, and I wrapped my short robe tighter around my body as I stepped aside to invite him in. I closed the door behind him and then asked him to excuse me a moment while I went to put on some clothes.

"You don't have to bother Donna," he said. "I just stopped by to say hello while I was in town. I found you and Scott in the phonebook. I can leave."

"Don't be silly," I said, and I offered him a drink. He agreed, making sure that he wasn't putting me out first, and then let me lead him to our den.

I'd already forgotten about the movie I was watching, and I felt myself blush when we entered the den. The lead actress was screwing up a storm with two men on the TV screen. I shut off the DVD player as quick as I could, but I knew Gary had already seen what I was watching. I tried to play it cool, though, and I told him to take a seat while I walked over to the bar to fix him a drink.

"Reminds me of the old times!" Gary said.

"Yes, I miss those times too!" I replied.

As I handed Gary a cold beer, I thought about how he'd seduced me, parking his truck in Encanto Park years ago and unzipping his pants to show me his erection. The sight of his cock got me as hot and bothered as if it were the first time I'd ever seen a cock, and I had to have it. I let Gary fuck my mouth as he groped my tits until he flooded my mouth with his semen. My mind had drifted so far at that point that I didn't even hear what Gary was saying, and he had to come over to the bar and put a hand on my shoulder to get my attention. 

"You okay, Donna?" he asked.

"Huh? What?" I said, startled. "Oh, yeah, yeah, I'm sorry, I'm fine. I think I just got distracted for a moment. What did you say again?"

"I just asked where Scott was?"

"He's still working," I told him.

Gary smiled. "So I guess that after 20 years things have finally cooled down in the swinging life, huh?"

I rolled my eyes, then turned to Gary and said, "To tell you the truth, I'm the one that's slowed down. Scott still encourages me to be a 'hotwife'!"

We moved over to the sofa and Gary sat down next to me. "On my way over here, I started thinking about the night we gangbanged you at the cabin," he told me. "I've got to tell you, that night is one of my fondest memories!" 

He was flirting, it was clear, and I found I didn't really mind. In fact, I was curious to see where he was going with this. "Just thinking about that night got me as aroused as I was when it was happening." He paused dramatically. Then, a mischievous glint in his eye, he sidled up close to me and said, "Would you like me to show you how hard my cock is for you right now?"

I shook my head. He hadn't changed in two decades. Even his seduction technique was the same. Just like he had that night, he took my hand and placed it over his erection. "You can't tell me you don't want this," he said. "I know you, Donna. I'll bet that pretty little pussy of yours is dripping wet right now, just like it was that night."

I had to admit that he was right. I was hotter than I'd been in weeks, and if I sent him away, I'd be left horny and with only my trusty vibrator to satisfy me. "Okay," I said, giving in. "But you better have what it takes to get me off." 

Then I stood up and walked out of the room, looking back only once to make sure he was following me. I led him straight down the hall and into to my bedroom, turned down the bed, tossed my robe over my dresser and lay back to watch him undress. He struggled out of his clothes, stumbling and tripping as he tried to get naked as fast as possible. I was pleased to see he was already hard for me, his knobby, veiny cock standing up straight and throbbing with desire as he climbed into bed with me.

He spent considerable time enjoying my full, soft breasts before slipping his hand down to lightly rub my steaming pussy. "My God!" he moaned, "You still have the hottest, slickest pussy I've ever felt." 

He quickly replaced his hand with his mouth, and I have to give him credit for knowing his way around a vagina. His talented tongue soon had me writhing in orgasmic bliss and gushing my juices all over his face. I used to get embarrassed when I squirted like that, but then I found out that it excited the men I was with, and I now take pride in my ability to gush. Gary's reaction to me drenching his face was no different than any other man's. He was eager to lap up every last drop he could get his tongue on, which helped him get me off two more times before he finally finished. I was still trying to catch my breath when he moved up and started to mount me. He entered my pussy in one smooth stroke then froze with his balls resting against my ass, desperately trying to control himself. He was even hornier than I was, and though he tried hard, he only managed a few strokes before he gasped and discharged a deluge of creamy semen deep inside my quivering pussy.

He remained hard and buried inside me even after his early ejaculation, and after he'd had a moment to calm down again, he began pumping in and out once more. It felt damn good to have another cock between my thighs again, and the sound of his shaft thrusting in my sloppy pussy got me even hotter and wetter than I already was. I was so turned on that Gary's steady, rhythmic thrusting wasn't enough, and I begged him to fuck me harder.

"My God, you're a horny little woman, aren't you?" he excitedly exclaimed as his hips jackhammered against mine. "I want to fuck you all day long!"

My pussy was so wet that our combined cum started to squish out of me as his cock pumped inside me, and I felt the creamy liquid run down my ass and lather the tops of my thighs. I'd never felt so sloppy in my life, but my God, I loved it! We screwed for what felt like hours, and when we couldn't do it anymore, we fell asleep, his limp cock still lodged in my pussy. When he got hard again in the middle of the afternoon, I felt him press that cock inside me, and I woke up for a quickie before going back to sleep. When Scott arrived home later, he found us in bed, Gary's cock still lodged inside me.

We had dinner together and later skinny-dipped in the pool, where both men spit-roasted me for the rest of the night, just like old times. Gary spent the night at our house, the three of us entangled in our king-sized bed. Gary left the next morning, after one more quick fuck in the shower, but I told him that he should stop by next time he was in town. He'd satisfied me better than any dirty movie and vibrator ever could, and I was looking forward to having him do it again soon.

Donna



Coupling - with Wife's Friend



 (I am thankful to sweatyfeetlover31 who helped me crease out my problems so that I can now bring my story to you. He Sweaty Feet, hope you get all the sweaty feet you yearn for) 

*

Vimi (my wife) had been away for 10 days alongwith her friend Neetu and well I had nothing to do. In my early 50's my sexual activities with Vimi had become nonexistent. Neetu was a regular at our house and it was like her second home. She was in her late forties and always called me Brother

Sexy to look at, voluptuous, horny arse and more than often I ended masturbating myself to the thought of her sexy tits in my mouth. I must tell you all that I have always been a big tit and feet man since the age of 14 when I was first initiated into sex and that is a different story.

Neetu was also away and visited me the very day she came back and told me that Vimi would be away for another seven days at mys house. We always conversed in Hindi and she said "Brother what difference does it make to you I am always there for any help, food, milk just give me a tinkle I will be there" The emphasis on the word milk was very obvious and she smiled as she went away.

Next morning was a Sunday and at about 11.00 AM I got a call from Neetu "Brother what are you doing had your milk and bread". 

"Aww Neetu milk is finished have to make do with bread only" I took a dig. 

"Oh Brother don't worry he (my Husband) is also away on tour and I am all alone I will just come just keep your gate open". Neetu was there in five minutes wearing a blue saree and deep blue blouse. She knew these were my favourite colours. Sleeveless Blouse and her Sari covering just half her breast she plonked down on the bed in my room.

"Its very hot Brother start the AC" Neetu said. "Let me have a bath first Brother then I will feed you milk she said with a twinkle in her eyes. "Do you know where Vimi keeps her nightie" she asked? "Oh forget it Veeju I will find it both of us are the same size" she winked and her gaze dropped on my boxers which I was wearing without any undie. The bulge was prominent and growing bigger. 

She opened the almirah and took out a negligee and threw it on her shoulder and she wiggled her butt and sang will come soon what is the hurry. 

Instead of going towards the bathroom she went to the kitchen and from there called out Veeju come soon. I ran there and she was in front of the fridge. So much beer it will be very funful today.

Whenever Vimi was away I always stocked enough beer in my fridge. 

Neetu have you taken beer before I asked?

Veeju, I have had it two or three times and today I want to drink beer to my heart content, you will get your milk don't worry and she bent down and started fiddling with the beer bottles. Her boobs were showing through her cleavage there and I almost salivated on them. 

Bhaiya one Cigarette please she said looking into my eyes and bent down a little more to show off her cleavage. 36 C I guessed. I had seen her smoke off and on. Come on sis I told her. 

What is this Sis Veeju call me Neetu and she put her hand in my hands. Come on sit down my feet are killing me please give me a foot massage. 

Your Cigarette Neetu I said passing her the packet and lighter. She lighted just one and after taking a pull handed it over to me. Come give me a foot massage she said with a twinkle in her eyes and lied down on the bed. 

Neetu put her feet on my lap and rubbed her left toe on my bulge. Her twinkle and smile both became broader. 

New way of smoking she said and inserted the cigarette between her toe and finger and extended her feet to my lips. My lips quivered as I took the ciggy in my lips and they touched her feet. Ooooh Veeju she said I am in heaven suck them and give the ciggy to me, today I will show you many ways of smoking. 

She inserted her toe and finger into my mouth and said suck as if you are smoking, Simultaneously she took the cigarette in her lips and sucked lightly. Then taking her toe and finger outside from my mouth she put her lips on my lips and exhaled the smoke into my mouth. My whole body tingled with excitement and I closed my eyes with contentment. It was the best puff of smoke in my life. Our lips had already coupled and remained coupled as we exchanged the smoke. Slowly the smoke blew out of the sides of our lips as we gazed at each other.

Just don't go on looking Veeju, do something as she put the ciggy back between her toe and finger. I took the cigarette out of her feet and put it to my lips and started massaging her toe. Slowly my hand crept up to the other feet also and up up and away they went as I looked into her eyes. She had closed her eyes and was enjoying the moment. 

Her feet were always moving around and they pulled my boxers down. Slowly my penis was exposed and keeping her eyes closed she ran her feet over my penis. Bhaiya very hard it is must be 7 inches atleast she said. I was also enjoying the stimulation her foot was giving to me as I felt as if her feet were masturbating me. She all of a sudden opened her eyes and shouted BY GOD so big and so big. Her eyes were fixed on my swollen cock and she said "I Salute You Veeju". As she brought her hand to her forehead. I need to do your penis worship she said. 

I must bathe you in milk cream she said talking to my Cock, her eyes all the time fixed to my cock. 

Her hands were massaging her breasts and that was a big turn on for me. I slightly moaned. Shut Up Viju don't say a word. Just keep sitting like this and please light another Ciggy she said.

Neetu walked away to the kitchen and I was wondering what she wanted. Beer perhaps I thought. I was correct, she was back with two bottles of beer and two mugs and a big flat deep plate. Give me me Ciggy she said eyeing my cock. 

Soon you will be in my mouth you sexy bitch my big big Vijoooo she said looking straight at my Cock and talking to it. 

She kept a bottle of milk cream on the floor alongwith the deep plate. Neetu put the ciggy between her lips and deeply inhaled, at the same time she opened a bottle of beer and winked at me. She soon exhaled her smoke straight at my lips and I sucked up her inhalation greedily. Now you have to drink this beer she said. She kept her both feet in the deep plate and poured out the beer from the bottle on to her feet, the beer flowed all over her feet and through the toe cracks into the deep plate.

Massage my feet Vijuu she said I slowly put my fingers inside the beer and massaged her feet. She sighed and big deep sigh. 

Sister fucker she said. I said no Neetu fucker. She took both her feet out of the beer and placed the beer wet feet on my cock. 

Pick up the plate and pour the beer into the mug she ordered. Yes mam I said and did as she ordered. Now drink it at one go, yes mam I said. 

Wait she said. Give it to me as she took it from my hand. Smell it. I smelled deeply and could get het scent in the beer. I will put more fire in it she said. All the while she was sitting wearing the blue sleeveless blouse and blue petticoat. The top two buttons of her blouse had popped open. 

She took the mug to her lips and spit her saliva into it and all the while she was looking at me. Do you want more fire. I smiled and said yes. She drank some beer, swirled it in her mouth and let it flow back into the mug. In the end she spitted her saliva more and then with her shapely fingers gave the beer a whirl. The wet fingers she kept on the blouse over her nipples and her nipples started swelling as I saw. 

Drink it at one go she said. I took the mug from her and said fine Neetu but by the time I finish I want your blouse out and your breasts nipples touching my nipples. Shut up you Neetu Fucker she said. You will play as per my rules. Today you are the wife and I am your husband so drink the beer she said. 

Please Neetu I said please please please 

You Fucking Bitch Neetu said, you wanna see my tittoo (tits). Neetu's tittoos, You bitch. My Tittoos. Drink she said. 

Now drinking a full bottle of beer (650 ml) at one go is very tough. I was also trying to heat her up. I was already heated up a lot. In fact both of us had broken up into small sweat inspite of The AC and that sweaty smell was making the whole atmosphere sexier. I brought the mug of beer to my lips and smelled it before drinking it. 

If you don't drink it at one go Neetu Fucker you don't get to fiuck me till 1.00 PM Neetu said. My eyes turned to the Wall clock as did hers. It was already 12:45 and I said fine and continued too stare on the third button of her blouse. 

I took a big swallow and another and third and a fourth all the time watching her. As the beer went down my throat she opened her third blouse button and her fourth blouse button and then she stopped. I stopped drinking the salivated beer myself. What did you do you bitch, I said why did you stop I asked Neetu.

Now I will see that you drink it she said fully and not leave something in the mug. She picked up the second bottle and opened that up also and poured the beer into another mug and taking some beer in her hands she put it on my cock. The top skin she had already folded over the top of my cock and she then rubbed it with the other hand. 

All the while one of her breasts dropped out of her blouse as only one button was holding the blue blouse together. Neetu was all pumped up and did not notice it. I slowly took the last slug of beer from the mug and all the excitement, sweat and atmosphere with the beer and slightly made me feel woozy. 

Keeping the top of my cock covered with the skin she poured the beer into the same deep plate from over my cock. She let about half a bottle pass over my huge swollen cock and then she stopped. All the while she took care that the top of my cock was still covered. Continuously staring at my cock she passed half the beer in the bottle to me and still holding the top of my cock in my hand slowly bent over to IT and I said WOW Vijooo WOW.

A drop of the beer passed through the fold on top of my cock and it started burning and I sighed by God Neetu its burning. 

Neetu filled her mouth with her saliva and let the saliva flow out of her lips and it dropped on the cock. Next she opened her hands and took only the top of my cock in her mouth and sucked slowly.

Where is it burning dear she asked me and as I pointed it out Nittoo licked the very spot, left her saliva on it, sucked the saliva up, again licked the spot, left lots of saliva and again sucked the saliva up. 

Better now Vijoo she asked. Yes Nitooo I said. 

All the time she was massaging my cock and she was unaware that one of her breast had popped out.

With her left hand she picked up the mug full of beer which she had poured over my cock and said put your fire in it as she bought the mug towards my lips. I took a big swallow of beer in my mouth and swirled it in my mouth and dropped the beer back into the mug. 

Some spit Neetu Fucker she said. I dropped some saliva into it. 

Hmmm sexy bitch she said. She raised the mug to her lips and in three slugs drank three fourth of the beer. Then she spit into it and said this is from your Neetoo drink it. 

Nitoo took out a ciggy and lighted it and passed it to me. I drew on the ciggy and lay down on the bed as the beer had loosened me up.

Neetu's fingers were working on my cock and as I smoked the ciggy she took my toe in her mouth and sucked deeply. My Ciggy she said pointing to my erect Cock. 

Soon she had my whole foot in her mouth and was sucking like mad. That is your ciggy Darling I said pointing to my cock. That is your cock for whole life.

Meanwhile Neetu was working on my cock with her fingers I slowly put my free foot on her last button of the blouse and pushed hard. BY GOD I said as jumped up because at the same time she had pressed my cock with her thumb and finger hands and stroked it up.

Her breasts jiggled. Take it off Vijoo she said pointing to her dress as she removed her hand from my cock. She lay down as I removed her blouse. Her hands went down to her petticoat but I was faster than her, I pulled her strings and pulled her petticoat down. Her deep navel well was visible. I went down as stuck my tongue into her navel and with both my hands took her breasts in my hand in such a way that the nipples were on the centre on my palm. I sucked on her navel.

Get up you mother fucker said Nitoo. As I raised my head she picked up the bottle of beer and poured a stream of it in her navel. Now my Vijoo will lick it clean come on Vijoo come on she said.

My head went down again and my hands had not left her breasts started pumping and massaging her breasts. I slowly sucked away all the beer and increasing her pressure on her breasts I slowly went towards her lips and put my lips on her lips and let the beer flow out of my mouth to her mouth. 

Meanwhile my pressure on her breasts increased and as I lowered myself on to her she raise her hips and pulled her petticoat down and with a toss flicked it over from her legs and brought up her hips so that my cock rested on wetty pussy. 

Fuck me Neetu Fucker Bang bang she said. I slowly pushed it in and then with a final thrust my whole cock was in. 

WELCOME TO NEETOooo's HEAVEN VEEJU SHE SAID

... To be continued