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The London

By: Darkdesiresforyou



Years ago I had an affair with a man who brought out my erotic imagination. We recently reconnected. Although we have separate lives in different cities, we still share fantasies, and, yes, get together from time to time to fuck and live some of these fantasies out. This story started as an email exchange, with each of us adding to it in turn. We then decided to put it into a secure document online and wrote and edited feverishly for days! Some of it is real and some of it what we anticipate. We hope it turns you on the way it does us. Enjoy, S.

*

On a warm August evening in Los Angeles, you are sitting at the bar in The London Hotel in a quiet section of West Hollywood having a drink when two beautiful women walk in and sit down one stool away from you. You can hear them talking intimately, while they assess everyone else in the room. You make eye contact with them here and there while checking your iPhone for messages. They seem to both be intrigued with you. Could it be the fact that you've got long, wavy hair, an inviting smile and twinkling eyes? You did smile at them when they glanced at you. They both look at you, smile at each other and then smile back at you slyly. One has auburn hair, cut in long layers and deep green eyes. She's wearing a short, tight green dress and has on navy stockings and heels. The blond has her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail and wears a fitted black lace dress, bare legs, red heels and coral lips and nails. She is sitting closest to you.

You are not sure yet if they are interested. However, they keep ignoring the other men, who are acting a little rowdy. One of them just cracked some lewd joke that everyone could hear, and "red" did an eye roll while looking at you. "Blond" was busy fiddling with her iPhone. You decide to take a chance and move over to the next stool with your glass of champagne.

"Are you ladies from here or out of town," you ask in your clear, soft and commanding voice. The line is silly, but your voice and smile just shot down all the competition.

Blond stays focused on her phone, but red smiles at you and tells you that she is from Santa Barbara, and came down to spend the weekend with her friend. The blond looks up, smiles and says "How about you?"

"I'm from Northern California, and am down for the weekend as well. Let me buy you both a drink."

"Thanks," says red, "we were going to hang here for a bit before dinner."

You all settle into the time honored dance of sharing individual life experiences, while checking out hair, eyes, posture, and openness of attitude. Rene, the redhead, seems more open. Patti comes off as a bit more guarded, but by no means naive. You talk about work, and then about things you want to do when work isn't in the way. They are talking about going to exotic places in the world, and you, having been to most of them, give them some inside experience about the more outrageous elements of travel.

When Patti asks you what kind of adventure you want, you smile, lean back on your stool and open up your arms in a display of honesty and say, "Well, I'm a very good piano player. Back before there were CD's or even vinyl records, there were dark and sexy strip joints with a drummer, stand up bass, and piano on the side of the stage, keeping time with the strippers' bumps and grinds. I want to play that piano, with strippers hanging all over me."

Rene says, "You know, that's so very cool. I can really see the scene you just painted."

Patti prods, "Didn't you ever want to be the stripper? One of those male strippers?"

You say, "Well, I can't say I never thought about it! But I love the idea of having my music as the soundtrack for their act, and hanging out with them, you know.. well, that would be a real turn on." You look them both in the eye, smile and say, "I just love confident, brazen women. That's just the way it is."

Sensing it is time, you finish your champagne and pay the tab. You then smile and lean over to both of them and ask them if they would like to see a very special show in front of the hotel. "I'll be outside watching if you are interested." You get up and touch them both gently on their shoulders before walking out the door.

Intrigued, they nod to each other, and about thirty seconds later are walking behind you as you head to the front door of the hotel without looking back. But they stop short of following you out. They watch you go to the corner, wait for the light and then cross and position yourself across from the hotel, looking up. They are curious but a little nervous. They watch your eyes as you check your watch and then look up again when your posture changes. Tension and anticipation are clearly on your face and in your stance, even from across the street. Finally, they exit the hotel, cross the street, join you and look up to see...

Me standing on the balcony on the third floor. I am tall and slender, with long dark brown hair and bluish/green/gray eyes. You're still not sure what color they are. My breasts are small but round and firm. I have a long graceful neck. My waist is long and curves in just the right places. I'm wearing a loosely knit, long-sleeved black sweater that comes down just before my knees and strappy black heels. The sweater is open over a black lace bra and matching g-string. I'm looking right in your eyes and I take a long drink from a champagne glass. I turn around, drop the sweater and bend over with my ass toward the street. The g-string has a small lace triangle at the top of my ass connected to a long ribbon bow on each side. My fingers are running lightly up my legs, from my ankles to my inner thighs. Up and down again. I grab my ass firmly with my left hand and spank my right cheek roughly with my right. You look at Patti and then Rene. Rene's cheeks look a little flushed. You reach out and stroke her left cheek. She shuts her eyes for a moment before following your gaze back up.

You take out your cell phone and speed-dial my number. My phone is waiting on the table on the balcony. I pick it up, then turn around, facing you squarely with my legs apart. You smile as I instruct you to stroke your cock lightly through your pants with your free hand, which you obligingly do. I love it when you do what you're told. Then I ask you to pass the phone to the woman you think is most game. You hand the phone to Rene.

"Hi, beautiful," I say to her softly. "I'm Susan. Would you like to see more?"

"This is a little overwhelming, I just don't know. I, I'm Rene."

"And your friend?"

"Patti."

"It's OK, honey. We're all grown ups here, and everything is safe."

"Funny, it doesn't feel safe."

Patti is getting anxious, and is giving Rene a look that says "I don't think we should be doing this." But Rene just shakes her red hair, and turns back to looking up at me.

"I think, I mean, I guess, shit, Patti, we can leave if you really want, but I would love to stay here for a while. I'm just so intrigued."

"OK, I'll stay. If only to protect you from yourself. That woman in the window really is pretty hot though. I'm impressed she's got the nerve to do this."

You are mesmerized by looking at me in that position. Slowly you place both of your arms around their waists, ever so gently. Rene is holding the phone in her right hand, and leaning into you on her left. Patti is standing straight on your left, but not pulling away either.

"Hey, Rene. You still there? Don't say anything, just watch me up here. Right now this show is for you. Consider it an invitation, from me to you. "

I place the phone on the table on the balcony after setting it on speakerphone. I leave for a second, then return and you can hear soft, bluesy music coming through the room. We had this music on the last time we fucked, so you smile knowing the soundtrack is an inside message from me to you. 

I take another drink of champagne, place the glass down, give you all a very mischievous smile, then turn around while dancing to the music. With my back to you, I slowly pull my g-string down to just the top of my thighs, hesitate a bit, pull one side up a little, then the other side. I pull on one of the ribbons, and the right side falls down. Still holding onto the right ribbon, I release the left one. Reaching back with my left hand, I pull the g-string back and forth through my pussy, all the time swaying to the music. With one look over my shoulder, I pull them forward and then throw them backwards over my head, where they land on top of a hedge in front of the hotel. Stroking both sides of my gorgeous ass, I turn around, spread my legs with my hands on my hips, and look straight at the three of you. My landing strip is lit from a side light, I've got a big smile on my face, and both of the girls sigh and lean into you. I just love putting on this hot show for you and your new friends.

Now I'm dipping the middle finger of my left hand into my champagne. I lick it lightly off my finger. My finger is moist with a mix of the champagne and my saliva. I take my finger and trace up and down softly along my landing strip. You're admiring my soft skin above and to the side of that delicate line of hair. I stroke both my thighs with the backs of my hands and then gently open my pussy lips. You can almost see me glistening from across the street. Is it the light, or is it just your memory? You can't be sure. You lick your lips, remembering my taste. 

Rene grazes your hand with her hand and finds a room key between her fingers. She tenses, lets you slip her the room key and then exhales.

Patti is leaning into you with her eyes closed as you flick her right ear with your tongue. Rene looks in your eyes and brushes her hand across your chest. She then gives Patti a gentle kiss on her temple and slips your phone into her hand before sauntering across the street toward the hotel, gazing up at my balcony.

"Are you sure this is OK, Larry?" Patti protests softly.

You whisper. "Isn't life full of wonderful surprises?"

"I guess, but are you really sure this is OK?"

"You've got nothing to lose, Patti. There's a brand new experience in store for you if you want to take advantage of this situation."

You take your eyes off of me, and turn to face her. She looks up at you, and you kiss her so gently, she's not really sure you kissed. Rene has already entered the hotel lobby and is waiting by the elevator bank. You take the phone from Patti's hand and put it against your ear. I tell you to step behind Patti and rub your cock against her ass. You position yourself behind Patti and start to softly caress the inside of her left arm, until she shudders. You gently wrap your arm around her belly and pull her firmly against you and hand her the phone. Sensing Patti's not quite ready and still might bolt, you gently bring her back not quite to your pelvis. Then you feel her pushing further back on her own until her soft ass can feel the outline of your cock.

"Hi Patti. My name is Susan. You are so beautiful! Do you like the way Larry's cock feels against your ass? He has magic in that cock. It will give you hours of pleasure if you let him in."

Meanwhile, I turn back into the room to greet Rene, who is standing in the doorway. Her green eyes are so sexy, and her mouth looks so luscious. I pour her a glass of champagne, then give her a deep lingering kiss. She is a little tentative at first but then opens her lips and caresses my tongue with hers. She's fully dressed and I'm only wearing my earrings, necklace, bra and heels. We look each other over, she nods, and I lead her back onto the balcony. Rene sits on the chair, which is angled toward the middle of the balcony. I stand before her and stroke her hair, then lean over for another kiss before straddling her on the chair. The music is soft and slow, and I start giving Rene a lap dance, rubbing my pussy softly up her left thigh and down her right. She reaches her hands up to my face and brings my mouth back down to hers, then starts to rub her fingers lightly down my spine. She can tell that I love her soft touch, so she continues down to my ass and then down my thighs, while exploring my mouth with her tongue and lips.

Still standing behind Patti, both of you quietly watching my show, your left hand is ever so gently stroking her side, then brushing against her left breast while your right is moving slowly in front of her, moving up her inner right thigh under her dress. Her head is resting on your left shoulder and you nip at her long, graceful neck. Your erection is outlined in your elegant slacks, and is being massaged by her ass that seems to be automatically rotating around it all on its own.

You turn to your right and see a couple standing a few feet away from you on the sidewalk. They're dressed like a couple of rockers. He can't take his eyes off the show on the balcony and hasn't even noticed you and Patti. His mouth is hanging open. His partner is glancing back and forth nervously between the two of you and the hotel. Without a word, she tugs on his arm a couple of times and he reluctantly resumes walking away from the excitement.

I pick the phone back up and say to Patti, "What's your pleasure, beautiful? Are you happy where you are or would you like to take a closer look?"

"I'll be there, Susan," Patti whispers dreamily.

The two of you walk across the street with your arms around each others' waists. Before you head back into the hotel lobby, Patti meanders toward the hedge to retrieve my g-string. You laugh as she hands it to you and you give it a sniff before shoving it in your pocket. Your cock is rock hard, so you gratefully hold the g-string in that hand in your pocket in a comically vain attempt at camouflage. You hold Patti gently back, as if to say, let's give them a head start. Your eyes turn toward the bar but she shakes her head and pushes the button to call the elevator.

By now I've moved Rene back into the room and closed the balcony door, but left the curtains wide open with the lights on. A man is standing across the street, with a woman on each arm. They can't help themselves and linger to take advantage of my exhibitionism. Rene is on her knees in front of the balcony, with her back toward the street. She reaches her hands up and places them on my tiny waist. Her fingers trace the outline of my landing strip. She is smelling my ardor. I'm getting goosebumps thinking about the orgasm that is waiting, and my clit hasn't even been touched yet.

You and Patti quietly enter the room with your extra key. You walk in to see me placing one leg on the arm of the couch next to where Rene is looking up at me. I softly coo to her, and gracefully lower my pussy down to her mouth. She is not sure what to do, so I tell her to just open her mouth, soften her tongue and let me glide back and forth on it.

"No need to enter my cunt, just stay on my clit. That's it, yes, that's it. Now, think about the best head you ever got. You have it memorized, don't you? Show me what it was like, Rene."

You guide Patti over to the couch, where she can sit and watch the two of us. My right leg is right next to her. Her eyes are wide open in wonder.

"Look outside, Larry," I say. You laugh with delight to see there are people below taking in the show. "Keep giving them an eyeful, baby," you respond.

Patti is getting aroused looking at her friend's mouth on me, and her eyes wander up and down my body, from my flowing dark hair to my long legs. Knowingly, you say, "You could really love those legs, right Patti? Go ahead, you can touch them all the way to her ass. She loves it!"

Patti reaches over with her right hand and timidly moves to touch my ankle. She can't believe she's touching me and we haven't even really met! I moan softly, and place my hand on hers. She then starts stroking the back of Rene's head, as she continues to eat me out. I'm ready to cum at any second.

You walk over and kiss me roughly until my knees start to bend. Breaking it off, you then kneel down and kiss Rene, who has my pussy juice all over her lips. You stand up, smile, and look me in my hungry eyes.

"Yes," you say to me. "I know what that dirty mind of yours wants next. Man, that tasted great, Rene."

I turn to face you, close my eyes and wrap my arms around your neck. You effortlessly reach down and pick me up under my ass, with my legs wrapped around your waist. You carry me next to the bed, where the full-length mirror is waiting for us. You set me down on the edge of the bed, then lean down to first kiss my mouth, then my neck. I reach down, help you out of your shoes & socks, loosen your belt, unzip your pants, and hold your ass as you take them off. All you have on now is your tailored shirt, black boxers and watch. Glancing over at Rene and Patti, I reach into the waistband of your shorts, free up your wonderful cock, and wrap my warm wet lips around it as I pull your shorts to the ground. I only suck on you for a short while. We both love it when your cock is in my mouth, but there is so much else I want to do right now! I know this is a chance to take advantage of the selfish, exhibitionist, bisexual lust in my heart. 

After releasing your cock slowly from my mouth, I stand up and turn my back to you so that we're both facing the mirror now. I reach down, grab my ankles and lean back toward you. You know just what to do as you look me in the eye through the mirror, kiss my neck, and undo my bra. Your large, strong hands reach everywhere, over my shoulder, around my chest and caress my soft sensitive breasts, while never taking your eyes off of mine. Your cock is hard against my ass and you start stroking it with your right hand as you finger my wet cunt with your left. Next thing I know I feel the tip of your cock teasing me, teasing me before you push in so deep. You're filling me up. Your cock is perfect inside me. I'm looking brazenly into your eyes and you give me that knowing smile as you rock in and out, teasing me again with the tip.

Patti is watching us from the couch with her legs open, and her g-string pulled to one side. She is biting her lower lip while she works her clit feverishly with both hands. From time to time, her left hand reaches up and roughly squeezes each of her nipples, one and then the other.

Rene is so hot that she pulls her dress off over her head. She takes off her bra, leaving just her navy thong, garter belt, stockings and heels. Her breasts are full, with delicate freckles. Those tits sway as she licks her lips and crawls like a panther across the floor toward us. She is kneeling again in front of both of us. I kiss her mouth and caress her ear skillfully with my tongue. I let go of my ankles and brace myself with my hands against the wall on both sides of that mirror while you are now fucking me furiously. I meet your eyes again and then look back down at Rene.

She is crouching under both of us now. Her tongue is velvety soft as she licks my pussy and then brushes the base of your cock. She is moaning as she feasts on us, sucking my juices and then ever so lightly cradling your balls with both hands.

Our eyes are locked again as you grab my hips and push deeper and faster into my cunt. Just as I'm about to cum you pull out with a smile and lay down on the bed. Sweet torture! I'm almost shuddering as I turn around, climb on the bed and lower myself onto your delicious shaft. 

Without saying a word, we both turn our eyes to Patti at the same time. Her blue eyes are open wide as she gazes back at us in turn. Her face is strained as she pushes her fingers in and out of her wet cunt. "Yes, Patti!' you say. "We want to see you work it. Show us your pussy lips!" Her fingers draw out slowly and she spreads her delicate lips, swollen and pink by now. "That's it, beautiful," I tell her. "Now, keep stroking yourself and don't take your eyes off of us. Watch what we do next. You'll love it, baby."


The London Life



Tom was just 19 when he moved to London. That was back in the early 1970s.

On the basis of a couple of years' experience with a jobbing printer in High Wycombe, he had somehow managed to talk his way into being taken on as a trainee by an advertising agency. Initially, he was going to be working as a sort of dogsbody in the production department, but his aim was to become a writer.

'London?' His mother was not convinced that moving to The Big Smoke (as she called it) was such a good idea. 'Where will you live?'

'I talked to Arnold.' (Arnold was Tom's older cousin. He had been living in London for three years.) 'He's going to New York for six months, and he said he'll see if his landlady will let me take over his flat while he's away.'

Tom's mother continued to frown. 'I thought that Arnold lived in a rather ... well ... rough part of London,' she said.

'Notting Hill? No, not rough. A bit bohemian perhaps. But it's on the Central Line. It'll be good. Perfect, in fact.'

The flat was on Portobello Road, above a bakery run by a French woman named Michele. At street level there was the shop: La Boulangerie du Nord - well, north of France anyway. The main bakery, with the three big ovens, was in the basement. Michele herself lived in a flat on the first floor and, above that, there was a small one-bedroom flat that was to become Tom's new home for six months.

Tom moved in on the day after Arnold had moved out. 'I 'ope that you are a bit tidier than your cousin,' Michele said. Tom could see what she meant. The place was a mess. Every flat surface in the small living room was strewn with old newspapers and magazines. The kitchen sink was full of unwashed dishes. There were towels lying on the floor in the tiny bathroom. And the bedroom looked more like a bombsite that a bedroom.

Michele started pulling the grubby-looking sheets off the bed. 'There's a service laundry just down the road,' she said. 'Tell Martha that you need it all back by the end of the day, and ask her to put it on my account. Now I need to get back to La Boulangerie.' 

Tom gathered up the bed linen, the towels, and some filthy rags that he assumed had once been tea towels, and headed off to the laundry where he was greeted by a tall West Indian woman. 

'Hello. Are you Martha?' Tom asked.

The woman eyed him up and down. 'Ah could be,' she said. 'Depends on jus' who wants to know.'

'Michele said that I should ask if you could do these by the end of the day and put it on her account.'

The woman raised one eyebrow and tilted her head to one side. 'French Michele?'

Tom nodded.

'OK. Come back just before six. And don't be late. I don't wanna be hangin' 'bout. I got things to do. Yeah?'

Back at the flat, Tom filled the kitchen sink with hot water and left the dirty dishes to soak. Then he started tidying up the living room, putting the old newspapers into one pile and the magazines into another. The newspapers could be thrown away immediately; some of the magazines might be worth a quick scan - not so much for the editorial content, but for the advertising. After all, advertising was about to become Tom's bread and butter.

Tom had just finished stacking the newspapers by the door ready for disposal, and was looking around, trying to decide what to do next, when he noticed what appeared to be one more magazine tucked under the sofa. He pulled it out and turned it over to see what it was.

The masthead proclaimed HEALTH & EFFICIENCY. And, according to the legend in a panel along the lower edge of the page it was THE WORLD'S LEADING NATURIST JOURNAL Est. 1900. Between the banner and the legend there was a photograph of two youngish women playing leapfrog on a deserted beach. Both of the women were completely naked.

Tom was both thrilled and disappointed by his unexpected find. Thrilled because the two beach-frolicking ladies were completely naked and really rather attractive. Disappointed because, even though the one doing the leaping had her legs spread, she had no girly bits. No pubic hair. No 'front bum'. The photograph had clearly been retouched.

Inside, however, things got better. Inside, there was rather less evidence of retouching. The tennis-playing, volley-balling boys and girls (of all ages) looked rather more as Tom hoped that they would and should.

You have to remember that things were very different back in those days. There was no Internet. And so there were no porno sites. And there were definitely no endless Tumblr collections of 'wives' displaying their pink bits for all the world to see. There was Playboy. But Playboy didn't even show pubic hair. Even at its best, Playboy was rather like a more colourful version of the front cover of HEALTH & EFFICIENCY. Anything vaguely suggestive of real sex was discreetly hidden behind a pot plant and other such prop. Or it was simply airbrushed out.

Tom slowly turned the pages, studying each sometimes-small and often slightly fuzzy photograph - many in black and white. On Page 17, there was a cheerfully-smiling woman who bore an uncanny resemblance to his Aunt Molly. Not that Tom had ever seen his Aunt Molly naked. But he could imagine that that was how she might look if he ever did see her naked.

And then, on page 24, he saw Maria. And it was lust at first sight. 

Maria was perhaps 30-ish. She was shown 'relaxing in her caravan', 'enjoying a refreshing glass of homemade lemonade'. She was perched on a high stool, a little like a bar stool, and her legs were spread for all to see what was between them. Tom felt his heart skip a beat, and an electric tingle ran through his cock and tightened his scrotum.

Tom was so mesmerised by Maria's pudendum, the complex frilly shapes of her inner labia, and the silky tuft of hair that covered her mons and then thinned out as it descended, almost disappearing completely by the time it had reached the lower part of her outer labia, that he almost failed to hear Michele's footsteps on the stairs outside the door. Just in time, he stuffed the magazine back under the sofa and hastily rearranged the growing stiffy in his jeans.

Michele didn't knock. 'Oh, yes. Zis is much better. Much better.' And then she handed Tom a plate with a couple of large croissants filled with sliced ham, camembert, and French mustard. 'I don't know if you've had zee chance to get any food,' she said. 'But these were left over. It would be a pity to throw them out. You can return zee plate in zee morning.'

Later that night, tucked between the freshly-laundered sheets for the first night in his new home, Tom resumed perusing 'the world's leading naturist journal'. There were another three photographs of women displaying their pudenda that caught Tom's eye, and, while each had more than a passing attraction, Maria remained Tom's favourite. It didn't take long for his 19-year-old cock to rise to the occasion. And, as much as he tried to prolong the moment, it didn't take much longer for him to reach a shuddering climax and make a bit of a mess of the freshly -laundered sheets.

The following day was Sunday and, after finishing tidying and cleaning the flat, Tom went for a long walk, exploring his new neighbourhood, trying to figure out where everything was. Where were the food shops? Where was the nearest bank? The nearest post office? The shortest route to the Tube station?

He had not long returned to the flat when he heard footsteps on the stairs. Once again, Michele did not bother to knock. She just walked in and placed a plate with a large wedge of Tarte aux Pommes on the table. 'Such a pity to waste,' she said.

Michele looked around the room and nodded. 'Much better.'

Michele crossed the room and looked into the kitchen. 'Très bonne,' she said. 'Much, much better.' And then she inspected the bedroom and returned with a cheeky smile on her face. 'Ah! You are zee naturist, no?'

'What?' And then Tom realised that Michele must have spotted the rescued copy of Health & Efficiency. 'Oh, no.'

'But you 'ave zee magazine, mon chéri.' 

'Oh, that? Yes. The, umm ... the magazines belong to Arnold.'

Michele seemed a little disappointed. 'Oh,' she said. 'So you are not zee naturist then?'

'No.'

She nodded. 'Perhaps it is too cold here in Britain. Perhaps it is better in France. Or Spain.'

'I guess so,' Tom said.

Michele shrugged her shoulders. 'Ah, well. Perhaps one day you can 'ave zee chance to go where it is warmer, and then you can be zee naturist. It would agree with you, I think. Yes? All zee naked bodies.' Perhaps for the first time in his relatively short life, Tom was suddenly aware of a woman - an older woman at that - looking him up and down in a way that hinted at carnal intent.

Monday was Tom's first day at the agency. He arrived early and had to wait almost three-quarters of an hour for his assigned mentor, Warren, the senior print buyer, to arrive. Tom quickly formed the impression that Warren was not happy with his new role as babysitter.

'I don't expect to have to tell you everything ten times,' Warren said. 'Here's a notebook. Here's a pen. Use them.' However, by the time he realised that Tom knew the difference between a zinc and a stereo, and that he could pretty accurately judge the weight of a print stock simply by holding a sheet of it between his fingers, Warren backed off a little.

Shortly after midday, Warren announced that he was going to lunch with a supplier. And he probably wouldn't be back. At least not until the next day. Tom was about to enquire what he should do in Warren's absence when Warren said: 'There's a new business briefing at two o'clock. Jeremy says that you can sit in on it.' (Jeremy was the agency's Creative Director.) 

Tom arrived at the briefing on the stroke of two. 'Ah, yes, Tom,' Jeremy said. 'Grab a seat. We're just about to start.' And he indicated an empty chair next to a youngish fair-haired woman wearing a geometrically patterned mini-dress and knee-high boots. 'This is Tom, everyone. Introduce yourselves when you get a moment. And I think most of you have already had a chance to meet Laura. If you haven't, she's the lady next to Tom. Right ... let's get started.'

The briefing went on for a little over an hour; and, at the end of it, Jeremy reminded everybody that the information they had been given was strictly confidential. 'If I find that you've let it get into the wrong hands, you will be on the first stage coach out of here. Understood?'

As Tom hovered, wondering what to do next, a steady stream of the creatives came up to him and introduced themselves. Most of them seemed reasonably friendly.

'So,' Tom said, 'I take it that this is your first day too.'

'It is,' Laura said. 'Have you come from another advertising agency?'

'A craft printer,' Tom said - although why he had described HW Press as a 'craft' printer, he had no idea. 'And you?'

'A couple of years in journalism,' Laura said. 'It didn't agree with me.'

'Oh?'

'Well, I read Classics at Cambridge. It's not exactly the most vocational degree. Unless you want to teach. Which I don't. I thought that journalism might be fun.'

'But?'

'It wasn't,' Laura said. 'So I thought I would give advertising a go.'

Tom nodded.

That evening, as Tom waited on the westbound platform at Tottenham Court Tube Station, he suddenly noticed Laura standing just along from him. 'Hello again,' he said.

'Oh. Sorry. I didn't see you there,' Laura said. 'Where are you off to?'

'Home.'

'And where is that?'

'Notting Hill Gate. Well, Notting Hill anyway. Notting Hill Gate is the Tube station of course.'

Laura smiled. 'It is indeed. Small world.'

When the train arrived, it was already quite crowded. Standing room only. Nevertheless, Laura pulled a paperback from her voluminous handbag and read it all the way to Notting Hill Gate.

'This is my stop,' Tom said as the train slowed.

'Yes. Mine too,' Laura replied.

As they emerged from the Notting Hill Gate subway into the daylight, Laura announced that she thought that they should celebrate successfully completing their first day in the agency world with a small libation.

'A cup of coffee?'

'Fuck that,' Laura said. 'Mine's a gin. But I'll make you a coffee - if that's what you want.'

Laura's flat was in the basement of a Victorian house in Elgin Crescent.

'This is nice,' Tom said. 'You have a garden.'

'It belongs to my aunt,' Laura said. 'But she spends most of her time in Spain.'

'Spain? Yes. I gather it's quite warm in Spain.'

'That's why my aunt lives there. She has a camping ground. For nudists. Or naturists, as they prefer to be called.'

'Have you been there?' Tom asked.

'Spain? Or the camping ground?'

'I was meaning Spain,' Tom said, hastily.

'Yeah. A few times. I've also been to the nudist camp. That's also quite fun.'

Tom tried to imagine Laura without any clothes. She had nice legs. But her geometric-patterned dress didn't really give away too many clues about the body beneath.

Laura took a gulp of her gin and tonic. 'I bet you like a bird in the buff,' she said.

Tom could have said: Well, actually, I've never really seen one. Not in real life. In magazines, of course. Maria on her bar stool. But not in real life. But, somehow, he didn't think that Laura would believe him. 'Oh yeah, who doesn't?' he said.

Laura nodded. 'Let's go through to the bedroom,' she said.

Boy, Notting Hill was certainly a bit different from High Wycombe. In High Wycombe it had taken Tom almost six months to get his finger into Doris Smith's snatch. And that was in the dark. He never actually got to see what he was exploring.

Laura's bedroom was a bit like a library with a bed in it.

'You've got a few books,' Tom said.

'One or two,' Laura confirmed. She sat on the edge of the bed and removed her boots. And then she stood up again. Right in front of Tom. 'Are you going to unzip me or what?'

Tom started to reach around behind her in search of a zip.

Laura smiled. 'It's here. In the front,' she said. 'More convenient.'

Tom found the little tab and began to slowly lower it. He wondered if he should kiss Laura or something, but she didn't seem to be interested in anything other than shedding her dress.

Tom was a little surprised to discover that Laura was not wearing a bra. Not that she really needed to. Her breasts were quite small - but beautifully shaped. Tom was tempted to kiss them. But he didn't.

A couple of inches below the waistband of Laura's bright blue tights, the zip tab can to a stop. 'Thank you,' she said. A brief shimmy and the dress fell to the floor. And then, hooking her thumbs into the waistband of the tights, she removed them - together with her knickers - almost in one smooth movement. 'What do you think?' she said. 'OK?'

'Beautiful,' Tom heard himself say. 'Yes, beautiful.'

Tom tried not to focus on Laura's crotch, but the fact of the matter was that he was cunt struck. No magazine photograph could have done it justice. The plump mound. The soft, sparse covering of blonde hair. The plump outer lips. And the already-glistening inner lips peeping out from within. It was ... well ... beautiful. Just beautiful.

'Come on, let's get those trousers off,' Laura said. And, before he knew it, Tom was as naked as she was.

Laura lay back on the bed and spread her shapely legs, her knees raised slightly. 'And now let's see how good you are at eating pussy.'

Just how good was Tom at eating pussy? It was hard to say. He knew the theory. He'd read a couple of under-the-counter books. But when it came to practical experience, he had had none. No, this would be a first. It looked as if he was going to have to fly solo on his first outing.

Tom positioned himself between Laura's thighs. His hands were shaking, but he somehow managed to control them long enough to part Laura's outer lips and touch the moist folds within with the tip of his tongue. An exciting musky aroma filled his nostrils and his hands started to shake again.

Laura moaned encouragingly.

For three or four minutes, Tom tried to replicate - as best as he could remember - the actions of 'the Master' in 'Anna and the Master of Cunnilingus Castle'. But then he abandoned the script and just fell into doing what felt right - guided by the panting, the moaning, and the giggles of the lovely Laura. And then, after about fifteen minutes, Laura suddenly 'exploded'.

'Oh, yes! Oh, yes! Oh, bloody hell, yes!' And then, after she had caught her breath, she said: 'That was ... that was fucking brilliant.'

'So, it was OK then?' Tom said, tentatively. 'I did OK?'

'Laura grinned. 'OK? It was brilliant. And now it's your turn.' It was time for another first.

By the time Tom got back to the flat that night it was getting quite late. Michele was just coming up from the bakery. She looked at her watch. ''Ello. Your working day is almost as long as mine,' she said.

'I guess so,' Tom replied.

'But it was good? Your first day?'

Tom could not tell a lie. 'It was very good,' he said. 'Very, very good. I think I am going to like this advertising business.'

'That's good. Then I will bid you bonne nuit, mon ami. I need to be up again at four.'

Perhaps understandably, Tom's first fellatio experience had been all over rather quickly. Laura had barely got her lips around the head of his stiff cock before it started to twitch. And, little more than two minutes later, he was filling Laura's mouth with hot cum. At least she swallowed every last drop.

Had Tom been 40 or 50 or older, that might have been him done for the night. But he was only 19. And so, once he was between the sheets in his own bed, he again turned to Page 24 of Health & Efficiency. And this time he took the precaution of having a paper tissue handy.

Tom didn't see much of Laura for the rest of the week. In fact, he didn't really spend that much time in the office. Once Warren realised that Tom knew a thing or two about printing, he started delegating some of the on-press checks to him - especially the ones whose timing interfered with Warren's lunchtime and late afternoon pub appointments.

And then came Friday. Tom was once again waiting on the westbound platform at Tottenham Court Tube Station when - once again - he noticed Laura standing just along from him. 'Hello,' he said.

Laura looked around. 'Oh, brilliant,' she said.

'Brilliant?'

'Yes. I was hoping I might see you. I dropped by your office a few times, but you never seem to be there.'

'Out visiting printers,' Tom explained. 'You know ... checking stuff on the presses.'

Laura nodded.

Their train arrived and they both got on. As usual it was standing room only. And, as she had on the Monday journey, Laura took a battered paperback from her handbag and read all the way to Notting Hill Gate. As they walked from the Tube station, Laura glanced at her watch. 'Yes, I think there's time,' she said.

'Time?'

'I'm feeling horny, and I thought that you might like to fuck me. Only I have to get to a book launch. At chap I went to Cambridge with. I don't suppose it will matter if I'm a little bit late. It's not as if I'm the guest of honour or anything. Do you think we can do it in half an hour?'

Tom had no idea how long it would take. He'd never done it before.

As they made their way through Laura's flat, towards the bedroom, Laura was already getting her knickers off. 'I'd give you a strip tease,' she said, 'but I don't think we have time.' And then she was undoing Tom's belt and lowering his zip. 'Do you have a rubber?' she said.

Tom frowned for a moment. Rubber? Oh, yes. A rubber. 'Umm ... no,' he said.

Laura smiled. 'Just as well I'm on the pill then.'

One evening, when Tom was fifteen, his mother, with several brandies on board, had had 'the chat' with him. It was neither concise nor informative. There were many references to 'respect' and 'responsibility' and even to 'the sanctity of marriage'. And if Tom had had the impression before the chat that the first time was likely to be a big deal, then after the chat he had the impression that it just might be the biggest event in his entire life. And yet, here was Laura squeezing it into a quick 30 minutes before the launch of a book by some bloke she'd met at university.




The London Life



'Come on,' Laura said, lying back on the bed with her skirt pulled high and her fingers working her pink valley. 'We don't have all night. Well, not tonight anyway. Maybe another night.'

Tom positioned himself between her thighs, and Laura took his hardening cock in her hand and placed it at the warm, wet entrance to her vagina. 'Ready?' she said.

Ready? Was he? It wasn't at all the way he had expected it to happen. Not the first time, anyway. But then, as he was discovering, life in London was very different to life in High Wycombe. 'I think so,' he said. Tom pushed, and immediately discovered the incomparable sensation of a hard cock sliding into a receptive cunt. 'Oh, fuck, yes,' he said.

Laura smiled.

As it turned out, Laura's concerns about being late for the book launch were, shall we say, a little premature. In spite of Tom's best efforts, their first attempt at full sexual intercourse was almost over before it began. Well, over within three or four minutes anyway. 'We must try that again when we have a bit more time,' Laura said.

When Tom got back to his flat, there was a large wedge of quiche lorraine ('fancy bacon and egg pie,' Tom's mother would have called it) sitting in the middle of the table. There was also a magazine. The writing on the magazine's cover was in French. And perhaps the four people photographed picnicking were also French. It was difficult to tell when they weren't wearing any clothes.

Tom took a couple of leftover boiled potatoes from the tiny fridge, chopped them into smaller chunks, and put them in a frying pan along with a splash of olive oil, a pinch of salt, and a shake of pepper. Then, while the potato chunks began to take on a golden brown hue, he made a simple salad with some shredded iceberg lettuce and slices of tomato.

While Tom dined on the exceedingly tasty quiche lorraine with accompanying sautéed potatoes and a simple salad, he dipped into 'the French magazine'. Even allowing for the fact that first impressions can sometimes be deceiving, it seemed to Tom that if Health & Efficiency was about, well, health and efficiency, the French publication was leaning more towards unbridled hedonism. There were even a number of photographs in which the male naturists seemed to be sporting partial stiffies. Mind you, who wouldn't with all that tasty crumpet on display?

And then there was page 24. Was it a coincidence? Or was there something magic about the number 24? In Health & Efficiency, page 24 was the home of Maria who enjoyed 'a refreshing glass of homemade lemonade'. On page 24 of the French magazine there was a show-all photograph of a woman who bore a striking resemblance to Tom's landlady. The woman in the photograph was wearing sunglasses - and that was all that she was wearing - so it was hard to be sure. But it certainly looked a lot like Michele. Later that evening, Tom enjoyed a very satisfying wank imagining that it definitely was Michele.

On Sunday, Tom went for a long walk: across to Kensington Gardens, along the south side of The Serpentine, to Hyde Park Corner, up Park Lane to Speakers' Corner, and then back along Bayswater Road to Pembridge Road, and back to Portobello Road. He had just returned when he heard the familiar sound of Michele's footsteps on the stairs. This time, Michele knocked.

'Bon soir, mon ami,' she said. 'Tomorrow I will make for us zee supper. Seven o'clock?'

'Oh. Umm ... thank you,' Tom said. 'Yes, I can do seven o'clock. Yes. Oh, and thank you for the quiche. It was really nice. Delicious. And the ... umm ... the, umm, magazine.'

Michele smiled and nodded. 'I think you are secretly the naturist, mon ami. Secretly.'

On Monday afternoon, Warren sent Tom to do an on-press check at a printers in White City, not far from QPR's Loftus Road stadium. When Tom phoned before leaving the agency, the foreman said that the job would be going on the press at four o'clock. He suggested that they would be ready for Tom at about 4:30.

Tom arrived at 4:25, and expected to be heading back to Notting Hill Gate by about five. But there were problems. The job was late getting onto the press. And then there were problems with the registration. In the end it had already gone six by the time Tom raced back to the White City Tube station. Fortunately, it was only three stops back to Notting Hill Gate, and Tom arrived back at the Portobello Road flat just in time to have a wash and put on a clean shirt before heading back down the stairs to Michele's flat.

Michele answered the door wearing a long apron. And that was all she was wearing. 'Ah, mon ami,' she said. 'Welcome.' And she kissed him on both cheeks. 'We will start with a small glass of pastis. But first you must remove your clothes. Tonight we are having zee naturist supper. It is quite warm enough, no?' And she smiled.

Michele hurried off to the kitchen and returned almost immediately with two small tumblers of milky-white pastis. But when she looked at Tom, she frowned. 'You still 'ave your clothes on, mon ami!'

Tom looked down and he did, indeed, still have his clothes on.

'Do you need me to help you?'

Reluctantly, Tom sat down and took off his shoes and his socks. It was a start. But it was all too slow for Michele. She put down the drinks she was holding. 'Oh, come here,' she said. What was it about women wanting to remove Tom's clothes? First Laura; now Michele.

'There,' she said, as she folded Tom's clothes and placed them on a chair at the side of the room. 'Better. No?' And then she glanced down at her apron. 'Oh! Look at me. I am still wearing my apron.' But in a second or two she was not. 'There ... now we are both zee naturists, mon ami.' She handed Tom a glass of pastis. 'Cin cin.'

'Cin cin,' Tom echoed.

Tom tried to keep his eyes fixed on Michele's face. But it was impossible not to be aware of her womanly breasts, her slight tummy, and her neatly trimmed patch of pubic hair. At least Tom assumed that Michele's pubic hair had been trimmed; nether topiary was not something to which he had previously given much thought. But now that he was thinking about it, he was also aware that his cock was growing. And, to make matters worse, Michele was now watching his cock grow.

'Mon cheri, I think you are pleased to see me,' she said. 'Come and sit beside me on the couch.'

Tom took a gulp of his pastis and then did as he was bid.

'I think - how you say? - we need to take care of zee first things first.' And she took Tom's growing cock in her hand and encouraged it to grow even more. 'Très belle.'

Poor Tom was in two minds. On the one hand, he wanted his embarrassment to be over as soon as possible. In fact, it had clearly been a mistake to allow Michele to take his clothes off. What had he been thinking? But on the other hand, the longer that Michele's ministrations went on, the longer Tom wanted them to go on. Would it be too much to hope that they might go on for ever?

Yes it would. Within perhaps two or three blissful minutes, Tom's cock started to twitch. But Michele was ready. Another couple of deft pumps, and then her mouth was engulfing his erupting cock and she was greedily swallowing his warm cum.

'Hmm,' she said afterwards. 'Like warm pastis. But without zee anise.' And, again, she smiled.

Tom consoled himself with the fact that at least his cock was no longer sticking up like the flagstaff on the stern of a battleship. Mind you, how long it would remain quiet was anyone's guess. When you are 19, flaccidity is only ever temporary. Tom tried not to think about it.

'Come and tell me all about your new job while I finish preparing zee supper,' Michele said, leading the way to the kitchen.

Yes. Yes, that might help, Tom thought. And then to make things even better, Michele slipped back into her apron - although that still meant he had a tantalising view of her shapely arse. Oh well.

While Michele took some boiled potatoes, added hot milk, mashed them, added a generous pinch of salt and a slightly less generous pinch of white pepper, added a few cubes of cold butter, and then whipped them with a balloon whisk, Tom told Michele about his current role with the agency's production department and his future hopes with the creative department. He didn't mention Laura.

'It sounds more exciting than being a baker,' Michele said, as she started expertly zesting an orange and a lemon, and finely chopping a bunch of flat-leaf parsley.

'I'd be pretty happy to be able to cook like you,' Tom said.

Michele just smiled.

Supper was Daube de Boeuf Provençal - a slow-cooked stew of beef and vegetables in red wine, served with bright orange chunks of carrot over the creamy whipped potato, and sprinkled with fresh parsley and citrus zest. And there was a glass or two of Grenache-dominated Côtes du Rhône Villages to help it on its way. Tom thought that it was quite possibly the best stew that he had ever had, maybe even the best meal that he had ever had.

For afters, Michele had made a tarte Tatin. Not surprisingly, it too was brilliant: both soft and crisp, sweet yet tangy.

By the time they had finished eating supper, Tom had almost forgotten that Michele was naked. Yes she was an attractive woman. But being attractive didn't necessarily mean sexually arousing, he told himself. He even managed to glance appreciatively across the table at her breasts without causing any disturbance below. But then she spoiled everything. Or at least she changed everything.

She began by topping up their glasses. 'Not much point in keeping zis little bit,' she said. And then she pushed back her chair, rose to her feet, and went and sat in an armchair facing Tom. 'It was alright?' she said. 'Zee supper?'

'It was fabulous,' Tom said. 'Yes, fabulous.'

Michele spread her legs. 'You are too kind, mon chéri,' she said.

Oh-oh. Tom felt his cock start to rise again.

'I think that you are looking at my pussy,' Michele said. 'It is nice, no?'

Nice? Well, of course it's nice, Tom thought. It's very nice. Fucking brilliant, in fact. And independent confirmation of this opinion came from his cock, which rose still further. 'Sorry. I don't think that I am very good at being a naturist,' Tom said. 'I keep getting a stiffy.'

Michele smiled. 'Such a handsome stiffy. Perhaps you would like to touch my pussy with your handsome stiffy.' And she spread her outer lips slightly to reveal the pink within.

For a few seconds, Tom said nothing, did nothing, while his 19-year-old brain argued with itself. Yes, of course he would like to touch Michele's beautiful pussy with his stiffy. But, no, he shouldn't. It just wouldn't be right. Why? Well ... umm ... it just wouldn't. For a start off, Michele was almost old enough to be his mother. So? Also, Michele was his landlady. So? But, on the other hand, hey, she was the one who had started this whole thing. She was the one who had left the French magazine on his table. She was the one who had given him a hand job that had turned into a sort of blow job. Yes? No? Yes? And in the end it was yes. Yes, he would like to touch Michele's beautiful pussy with his stiffy. Of course he would.

Perhaps it was the red wine, perhaps it was something else, but Tom suddenly felt that he was no longer in complete control of his body. It was as if someone else was pulling the strings. One moment he was sitting at the table; the next he was kneeling between Michele's spread-wide thighs and Michele was gently rubbing his cock up and down along her slippery slit.

'That is nice, I think, no?'

Tom nodded - but no words would come out.

Michele continued on for perhaps two or three minutes. And with each pass, her slippery slit became more slippery - as did the head of Tom's cock. And then Michele placed Tom's cock at the entrance to her vagina and pulled Tom towards her. For the second time in his young life, Tom experienced the incomparable sensation of a hard cock sliding into a warm receptive cunt.

'Oh, fuck, yes,' he said.

Michele smiled and nodded. 'Yes, indeed, mon chéri,' she said.



The London Underground



Jon sprung yet another surprise on me when he came home from work one Tuesday night and told me that he had a business meeting in London the next day. He'd decided to take me to London with him and leave me to fend for myself while he went to the meeting, but have a bit of fun with me before and afterwards. We quickly packed a bag and caught the 7 something train. 

The journey down wasn't anything special and there were very few people on the train. Jon had booked us into the Regent Palace Hotel at Piccadilly Circus. It's not the best of hotels, but you can't get much more central without it costing you a fortune (and Jon was paying, not his business).

The room that Jon booked doesn't have an en suite bathroom. I was a little disappointed until Jon told me that his choice was deliberate so that I could walk around the corridors wearing only a towel, and then let it fall off 'accidentally'.

Jon had a bad headache when we got there so we went to bed straight away.

Jon woke me up at 6 o'clock the next morning and told me to go for a pee. He gave me a towel to wear that I hadn't seen before. When I wrapped it round my body it was only just long enough to cover my breasts and bum; and it was only just long enough to wrap over and tuck in. Not only would it take very little for it to un-tuck and fall off, when I put one leg in front of me the whole of my side up passed my waist was showing.

The building is sort of triangular with bits going off. You can walk round the corridor and get back to your room without turning back on yourself. I hadn't needed to go to the loo the night before so I didn't know where I was going. I didn't get far before I had to open a fire door and the inevitable happened. Unfortunately there wasn't anyone around to see my nakedness.

I eventually found a ladies loo and had a pee. Feeling a bit brave I decided to walk back to our room with the towel in my hand. Unfortunately I must have been too early and never saw anyone. Jon told me I was a 'good girl' when I got back to our room, and told me to go again in an hour.

I looked out of the window and was disappointed that there wasn't much of a view, and the building opposite looked a bit of a dump. It turned out that it was the back of some posh shops in Regent Street. The obviously didn't care what the back looked like.

About 20 minutes later Jon decided that he wanted a drink of coke. There wasn't a mini bar in the room so I grabbed the towel and volunteered to go and get him one (I'd seen a coke machine near the lifts).

The corridor was deserted again, and all was quiet when I put the money in the machine. As I was bent over getting the can I heard a man say, 

"very nice dear, can you just stay like that for a while please?" 

I was surprised, jumped up and turned round. This middle-aged man as stood there with a suitcase in his hand. I put my empty hand on my chest and said, 

"Oh, sorry, you startled me. I didn't think anyone else was up yet." 

He said, "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you jump, it's just that I was admiring your beautiful rear end." 

He looked a nice man so I pulled the towel off, said, 

"Well what do you think of the front end then?" and walked passed him back to our room. 

As I was walking away from him I heard him say, "Very nice my love!"

Half an hour later Jon said it was time for a shower. He wrapped a towel round his waist and told me to put my towel on. As we walked down the corridor I could hear one or two people moving around. Just as we started turning one of the corners, Jon grabbed my towel and pulled. I gasped and bent down to pick it up. As I did, I looked along the corridor and saw a maid delivering breakfasts. She was looking at us with a grin on her face. Knowing that Jon wouldn't mind, I stood up and grabbed his towel. It came off as I said, 

"Two can play at that game." 

The maid's eyes opened wide and her jaw dropped as she saw Jon's bald dick. She just stared as Jon said, 

"Right then, wait until I get hold of you." 

Off I ran, giggling, with Jon chasing me. Neither of us bothered to put our towels back on until we were passed the maid and round the corner. Her face was a picture. 

Round the corner, a man in a dressing gown just stared as Jon pulled me into the men's room.

There was no one else in there so I went to the loo while Jon shaved. We were both sharing a shower when another man came in, saw us, stared for a second or two, said, "Sorry", and walked out. I don't know what he though we were doing. It wasn't as if Jon was fucking me.

The walk back to the room was uneventful and we got dressed and went for breakfast. Jon put his suit on ready for his business meeting, and he told me to wear just shoes and one of my thin, cotton dresses. The one that has a scoop front, no sleeves and big armholes. I sometimes have trouble keeping the straps on my shoulders in that one.

After breakfast we went for a ride on the Underground. The weather is always warmer in London than in Derby, but it was a bit fresh out. My nipples were letting everyone know that it was fresh. When we went into the Underground it was quite breezy as well. A couple of times I could feel my dress blowing up. 

We got the train to Embankment station then got on the Circle line. The first bit was only a couple of stations and I sat opposite a young man who I could see was looking at me over the top of his newspaper. Not wanting to disappoint him I slowly opened my legs so that he could see my pussy. Poor man went bright red, but he kept looking. When we got up to leave I looked to see if he had a hard-on, but the paper was covering his lap.

Those of you who have read my Journal will know that I never cross my legs like most women do, Jon won't let me.

As we got on the train at Embankment Jon told me to stand near door and hold onto one of those leather straps that hang down. I'm not very tall and I have to stretch to reach. My dress hemline got even higher on the side where my arm was stretched up. Because my dress is baggy, and has very big scooped armholes, anyone looking at my side that has my arm up would be able to see all of that breast, and a bit of the other one as well.

Nothing much happened to start off with, except that I was getting a bit excited anticipating what might happen. After about 3 or 4 stations the train got busier. I'd watched one young man stare at me as he got on, and he stood close to me watching my little left breast wobble a bit as the train rattled along. 

Things got a bit more interesting at the next station, people poured in, and I began to feel like a sardine. A couple of other men were looking at me as well. I couldn't move and there was a man pressed up against my back, and another in front of me. He was facing me and bent back a bit so that his face wasn't in mine. When I looked up at him he smiled and continued looking down my dress at my nipples (the breeze and the excitement was keeping them hard).

After a minute or so I felt a hand on my right thigh, just gently at first, but when the owner was confident that I wasn't going to scream or something, the hand started moving up under my dress. It went all the way up to my waist, then had a little feel round. I guess that he was trying to find some knickers.

The hand then moved round to my bum and the body that had been pressing into my back, wasn't any more. My right ass cheek got squeezed before the hand drifted down between my legs to my pussy. Just as it got there, the train stopped at a station and the hand disappeared. People got off, and people got on; but the train wasn't any the less crowded. The man in front of me was still looking down my dress, the man behind me was still there, and another man was stood at my left looking through the armhole of my dress. With all that attention from men that I'd never seen before, and never spoken to, I was very excited -- to say the least.

As the train started to move off, I felt the hand again. This time it went straight between my legs to my pussy. There was a moment's pause when the owner found out how wet I was, or was it because the hand found the two little gold rings in my pussy lips. Whatever, the pause was only for a moment before the fingers found my clit then went inside me.

I moaned a bit then looked up at the man in front of me. We made eye contact so I smiled. I think I blushed a bit as well. The fingers started to pump in and out of me and my hips started to move in response to the stimulation. I closed my eyes to just enjoy the sensations and was biting my bottom lip when I opened my eyes again to see the face of the man in front of me. He had a puzzled expression on his face and was sniffing the air. I sniffed and realised that he was smelling my pussy juices. I felt a bit embarrassed and proud, both at the same time.

The fingers were just getting me close to cuming when the train slowed and stopped at the next station. The fingers stopped moving, but didn't go out of me. Instead I felt his hand grip part of my right cheek and hold me there.

Again people got off and on, and it was still crowded, neither the man in front of me, nor the one behind had moved. As the train started to move off I looked up and down the carriage. Although there was a crowd where I was, there was plenty of space in the rest of the carriage. There were even some free seats not far away.

I saw Jon, sat down and looking at me with a big smile on his face.

The fingers got working again and it wasn't long before my orgasm arrived. I tried to stifle my moaning, but I wasn't that good at it. The man in front of me knew what was happening and had a big grin on his face. As the waves hit me I leaned forward a bit and my stomach felt what was probably the man's hard-on. I did want to reach in between is and squeeze it, but I thought I'd better not. 

The fingers in my pussy knew I'd cum but were still going in and out. They kept going even when the train stopped in the next station, and shortly after that I came for a second time. That time I did manage to stop any noise escaping from my mouth, but it was difficult.

The fingers stopped and just stayed inside me for a minute or so, then pulled out. I felt them being wiped on my backside as the hand withdrew. 

The train pulled into another station and I suddenly realised that both men had gone. I was alone, but a few people were looking at me. I did a quick check and my dress was still covering my pussy, ass and tits -- just. So they were either looking at my legs (some of them hoping my dress would go just that bit higher); or they had been watching what was going on. I didn't care which.

I stood there on my own as the train went on to the next station. There some noisy youths got on and started fooling around where I was. A couple of them were looking at me. One moved close to me and lifted the front of my dress. 

"Nice cunt", he said as another of them took some interest in me. 

One of them said, "Let's have a look at your tits then." 

When I didn't move he said, "Okay then, I'll get them out for you." 

With that he put a hand inside the armholes of my dress and pulled it into the middle of my chest. Both my little breasts were out. Another of them said, 

"Bloody hell, look at those nipples." (Well, they were rock hard from the breeze and the excitement).

Next, another of them lifted the hem of my dress up above my waist and said, 

"Nice ass and pussy as well." 

I was getting a bit scared by then, and looked over to Jon. He was just standing up. He walked over and looking directly into the eyes of the tallest of the youths he said, 

"I think that's enough fun for this morning gentlemen. The lady's getting a bit frightened; and none of us want any trouble, DO WE?"

I think it was the surprise that someone had stood up to them that shut them up, they just stood there. The youth who was holding my dress up round my waist let go of it. It fell back into place. 

No one at that end of the carriage said a word. All eyes were looking at us. It seemed like hours, but it must have only been a minute before the train stopped at the next station. When the doors opened Jon grabbed my arm, and pulling me out saying, 

"I think it would be best if you came with me young lady." 

I felt the bunched up part of my dress front start to move back over my breasts. Just round a corner off the platform, Jon stopped and asked me if I was all right. I told him that I was a bit scared, but yes, I was all right.

We got the next train and Jon sat me down next to him. A couple of stations later he told me that that was his station for his meeting. Giving me my purse out of his briefcase, he told me to stay sat down until the train got back to Embankment; then to go back to the hotel. He told me that he'd be back sometime late afternoon.

The journey back wasn't anywhere near as much fun. I opened my legs to a young woman who sat opposite me and just stared at my pussy when she realised she could see it. 

Walking out of the Underground at Piccadilly Circus, the warm sunshine and the bustle of people made me feel good. I didn't want to go back to the hotel room, and anyway, I was hungry.

Quite close to the hotel entrance is a Burger King, I decided to have a burger. I got it then looked for a table. There were none free downstairs, so I went upstairs. When I got there I saw that there are 2 levels of tables. The floor of the upper level at the front of the restaurant is about at the height of the tables at the lower level. On the edge of the upper level is a railing with not very wide steel bars. Tables are right up to the railing on both upper and lower level. The end result is that someone sat at a table on the lower level has their head at knee level of someone sat at a table on the upper level. 

It took me only seconds to realise that it was a golden opportunity for me to flash my pussy at people on the lower level.

There wasn't a table at the edge of the upper level free when I first got there, so I went to a free table near where I thought someone would be finishing soon. A few minutes later the couple did finish and I moved in. I looked down and saw that there was a young couple on the table below me. Unfortunately I was facing the woman, so I moved. I think that the man had seen me before I moved, and I saw him looking at me as I started to sit down. He was looking right at my legs so I sat down in a very un-lady like manor. My knees were wide apart as my bum hit the seat. Pretending to open my bag of chips, I glanced down and saw that he was having a good look. His head was about a foot from my knee and it was easy for him to look over and see all the way up to my pussy.

I sat there slowly eating and not turning my head his way. He must have had the impression that I didn't realise what he was looking at. That was just what I wanted.

As I eat, I listened to their conversation. The man wasn't taking much notice of what the woman was saying, and he was saying stupid things when he thought he should be saying something. The woman was starting to get annoyed with him. Finally, she realised where his concentration was and grabbed his arm and dragged him out. He looked back at me as he started to go down the stairs. I smiled at him.

It took me about an hour to finish that burger, chips and coke. I was surprised that I didn't get thrown out. In that time I flashed one teenage girl, one middle-aged man and young female member of staff who came to clean up the table below me. When she realised what she was looking at she started to say something, but stopped herself, stared for a minute, and then went away. I was half expecting for the manager to come and throw me out, but no one came.

Eventually I got bored and decided to go for a walk. I went up Regent Street and onto Oxford Street. I went into a few shops, but only had some fun in one of them. An Ann Summers shop. For those of you who have never heard of Ann Summers, she runs a string of shops and home parties. All selling items to make peoples sex life more interesting.

The ground floor part of the shop wasn't very interesting, but downstairs they have lots of dildos, leather corsets, whips and sexy clothes. After feeling the texture of some of the dildos, I saw a French Maid's outfit. I thought it was quite cute. I lifted it off the hook and was having a look at how it was made when the male shop assistant told me that I could try it on if I liked. At first I said, 

"No, its' all right," but as soon as I'd said it I changed my mind and said, 

"Can I please, where's the changing room?"

The changing room is a cubicle at the back of the shop. It has a big curtain for a door. Inside, my dress was off in seconds and I stood there naked. I was just working out how to get into the little dress when the curtain opened and the man said, 

"Need any help?" 

I was a bit startled, and after a few seconds of looking at each other, I said, 

"No thank you," and pulled the curtain closed.

Once I finally got the outfit on I looked at myself in the little mirror. It didn't fit me well. It was obviously made for a woman with big breasts. Mine were lost in there and the material just hung off my chest. The skirt part was good, I liked the layers of lace that made the black skirt go out at quite an angle. I knew that Jon would like the skirt, it only just covered my bum and pussy.

I was just deciding to take it off when I heard the man's voice say, 

"There's a big mirror out here. You can get a better look at yourself." 

I was about to say 'no thank you' when I suddenly thought 'why not.'

In the main area of the shop there was the male assistant, a couple of giggling teenage girls and a couple in their early twenties. As I walked out the shop assistant pointed to the mirror that was at the other side of the shop. I'd have to pass all the people to get there. The couple saw me first and watched me go by. Then the girls. They stopped giggling and stared as I stood in front of the mirror and smoothed the material down. As I turned from side to side, to see myself from all angles, I could see the couple and girls in the mirror. They were still looking at me. 

I decided to bend over a bit to look at the skirt at the front. This meant that it rode up my backside giving them a good view of my ass. Next I turned to face them then looked back over my shoulder, into the mirror to see that back of the dress. That showed them my pussy and proved that I wasn't wearing a thong.

The shop assistant came over and asked what I thought. Grabbing the front of the top part, I pulled it out and down off my tits. 

"It's not very good," I said, 

"it's been made for someone who's got a lot more up top that I have." 

"Ah, yes, I can see that. How about a Nurses outfit?" 

I declined the offer and went and got changed. When I got out, I gave the assistant the Maid's outfit and left. As I walked up the stairs to the ground floor I was followed by the 2 girls. I heard one of them say, 

"Look, she wasn't wearing any knickers because she hasn't got any." 

Then they giggled again.

I wandered around a bit more and got whistled at by a couple of workmen in a hole in the road. It was my fault for standing so close to the edge of the hole.

When I finally made it back to the hotel, Jon was already in the room. My backside got 20 slaps for not being there when he got back.

Jon took me to the theatre and a meal that night. I didn't think that much of the play, but the food was good. Before we went out, Jon told me to carry my towel to the shower room. It was a wasted naked walk as no one saw me. 

The naked walk that I took later that night wasn't wasted. The quantity of wine that I had with the meal made me a bit braver and when Jon told me to go and get him a coke from the machine near the lifts, I didn't even think of putting any clothes on when I got out of bed after Jon had fucked me. I just grabbed my purse and went out into the corridor. As soon as I turned the first corner I saw this elderly couple walking towards me. The expression on their faces was great, a bit of shock and amazement. The lady's mouth finally closed when I got right up to them. I thought she was going to say something so I got my spoke in first. 




The London Underground



"Doing it for a dare." I said. 

"Oh, right then." The old man said.

I made it to the coke machine without anyone else seeing me, but as I was putting the money in, the lift door opened. Out came 2 middle-aged men who just stopped and stared. They were still there as I walked back towards our room. 

I decided to explore a bit and went a different way. The excitement of being naked in an almost public place where I could get caught at any moment was getting my pussy tingling again.

I came to a set of stairs and decided to go down a floor. That would increase the risk. 

The floor below was deserted when I stepped out of the stairwell. I was about half way to the lift when a whole group of teenagers came out of the door to the lifts. There must have been over a dozen of them, all about 15 or 16, and both boys and girls. 'Sod it' I thought, and kept walking. When they saw me they started talking and laughing. They were not speaking English. Some of them stopped and stared as I walked right through the middle of them. I noticed that one of the girls had a shocked expression on her face, and was holding a hand over her mouth as she stared at me. I felt good.

At the lifts, I decided to go up the floor in the lift rather than use the stairs. The excitement of not knowing who might be in the lift when the doors opened was getting my pussy excited.

It seemed to take ages for the lift to come, and when the doors opened there was a couple about my age in there. He stared and kept staring with a blank face, but her surprise turned to a big smile. 

"Dare or a bet?" she said. 

"Dare." I said as I walked in. 

I stood facing them as the lift went up the floor. As I walked out she said, 

"Bye, hope it was worth it." 

"Oh it was!" I said as I walked back to our room.

Next morning Jon wanted to catch an early train so it was a quick dash to the toilet and shower. I did it with my towel over my arm, and the only person I saw was a girl member of staff delivering some breakfasts. She just stared at me.

Going out of the Underground at St. Pancras, Jon told me to get on the escalator before him. He then held up the queue for a minute before stepping out of the way. When I turned round to see where Jon was, there was a gap of about 8 empty stairs, then a man staring straight up my dress. When I was facing upwards he must have see my ass, and when I turned to look for Jon he must have seen my pussy. I saw him lick his lips. At the top he said, 

"Hi, on your own?" 

By that time Jon was there, he grabbed my arm and we went for the train.

Well, that's how our little trip to London went. I have other adventures that Jon's told me to document. I'm sure that Jon will get me to publish all of them on my web pages as and when he's read them and is happy with them.

Love 

Vanessa 



The London



Rene joins us on the bed, having first removed her thong. She unbuttons your shirt and gently bites your nipples. She straddles your face while facing me and lowers her hot neatly trimmed red bush down toward your tongue. You are eating her fiercely now while she kisses me and strokes my breasts. 

With two beautiful women pleasuring themselves on you, your mind is still working, pushing for ways to enhance our experience, to take it a little farther. You gently lift Rene off your face long enough to say, "Spank her, Rene." Rene looks at me and I smile. As she rides your tongue, writhing now, she reaches out with her right hand and slaps my ass. I close my eyes briefly and then look back at Rene, grateful and at the same time begging for more without a word.

Patti is still watching us spellbound from the couch. She gasps when she hears Rene's hand come down on my ass, and then closes her eyes and rests her head against the arm of the couch as she surrenders to her pleasure.

Your left hand is resting on Rene's left thigh. Your right hand reaches out from time to time and savors the heat coming from my left cheek where Rene is striking me.

I'm kissing Rene, kissing her, begging her out loud now to slap me again as I ride you more and more desperately. You feel my cunt tighten around your cock each time her hand strikes my ass. You've moved Rene gently off your mouth for a moment so you can finger her with your left hand while you watch me climax. My ass is red now, stinging with pleasure. My face is red too as I purse my lips, rock on your pelvis and let it go. My shuddering orgasm is deep and long. Still rocking gently, I start to gather speed and help myself to one more. I could ride you like this and cum over and over but I know the night is still young.

I open my eyes and look at you gratefully, then kiss Rene's right breast. She is arching her back as you start working her with your tongue again. Without saying a word, without missing a beat, I slide off your still-hard cock and Rene scoots down and glides on. She is smiling widely, knowing she is heading for an intense orgasm, based on witnessing mine, and savoring the way your cock fills her cunt so completely. She is sitting on you at the edge of the bed with her back toward you, facing the mirror. You're sitting up too now, peeking around under her left arm as you guide her hips back and forth. You love what you see in the mirror, as Rene gets more and more flushed. She can't keep her eyes from shutting as she moves on you.

Now I'm standing in front of Patti, offering her a glass of champagne. I'm looking in your eyes as I start talking softly to her. We're both drinking in the visuals as you sit with beautiful Rene on your lap and you watch me moving in to pleasure Patti. When she takes the glass from my hand, I kneel on the floor in front of the couch and start grazing her thighs so lightly with my tongue. Her hand is reaching back toward her cunt but I push it away, replacing it with my own. 

You are grinning now, and your eyes are shining. You live for moments like these. Rene is cumming over and over as she bounces athletically up and down on your big, stiff cock. "Oh, yes! Fuck me, Larry," she moans. 

I'm looking you in the eyes again with a slight smirk on my face, and you watch me start to slowly lick Patti's juices off my face. Patti is melting into the couch after her first girl on girl orgasm from my feasting on her. Rene has slid off of you and is laying face down on the bed.

"Now, now, ladies," I say. "We aren't done."

I take Patti's hand and lead her to the bed. She's a little wobbly and seems grateful to have joined us. You're still sitting at the edge of the bed, facing the mirror. I offer my mouth to you, so you can share a taste of Patti. I reach for your shirt and help you out of it, then take off your watch. I take a long drink from my champagne glass, turn to you, and give you another smoldering kiss while letting the champagne run freely from my mouth to yours and down your cheeks and neck.

"Lick it up, Patti," I whisper to her.

You turn to her with your sexy smile, and pull her over to you so she is sitting on your lap. She giggles, then says "this is so wild" and kisses you, roaming her tongue over your mouth, teeth, neck, and lips. Rene is watching the whole thing, with half hooded eyes. You tell Patti to stand up. She faces you and I stand behind her. As I unzip her dress, and begin to raise it over her head, you slowly take her g-string off. She holds onto your shoulder for balance while she kicks them off, keeping her stilettos on. Her blond pubic hair is outlined as a heart. I reach in front and unclasp her bra, catching her full breasts in each hand until you lean forward to suck on her nipples. When you move to finger her, you find my finger already deep inside her cunt. You give my hand a slight squeeze, as you love the way our minds work alike. Patti's eyes are closed and she's panting softly and sopping wet. "Lie down, honey" you say.

So, there we are. Patti, Rene, you and me, lying head to toe in a big square on the hotel's king size bed. All of us enjoying the afterglow of our big orgasms, except, of course, you, who is busy enjoying your erection as you take in the scene. We all turn on our sides and naturally start a daisy chain. You are eating Rene, who is eating me. I'm eating Patti, who is blowing you. Random hands move along our thighs, clits and breasts, exploring. Patti reaches over to my cunt, lubricates her finger, and then slowly sticks it into your asshole. You are going to cum soon, and Patti knows it. 

I, who have been watching through the corner of my eye, release Patti from my mouth, and move over to your cock. Rene is next. You laugh out loud with delight as you find a tangle of long red, blond and brown hair converging around your lap. Our beautiful bare asses are sticking up at various angles. Soon all three of us are blowing you at the same time. Two of us at a time on both sides. One holds it and places it in one of the others' mouths. We're eating greedily and sharing you generously at the same time. You're not even sure who is doing what now but it doesn't matter. You can feel us kissing each other too while we work our lips and tongues along your wonderful, hard shaft. You moan deeply, encouragingly. You're resting on your elbows and fighting to keep your eyes open so you can remember every detail. Patti is busy massaging your prostate gland, and calling you her bitch, with a dirty little laugh. When I finally open my mouth and lick the base of your cock, swirling it around in my mouth, and sucking with all my strength, you start to cum. Finally, that sweet, salty taste I crave. Rene and Patti deserve a taste too, I decide. When I'm sure I have your full load in my mouth, I release you gently, resting my hand on your dick where my mouth just was. I lean over Patti and let your cum drip from my mouth onto her waiting tongue. She then crawls over to Rene, who accepts it into her mouth with a deep kiss, and then swallows it with a smack of her lips.

"Who's ready for room service," I ask as we all laugh, smile and savor the delicious tastes in our mouths and sensations in our bodies.