6 comments/ 52356 views/ 3 favorites I Never Thought By: Calandria Nobody in this story is under 18. If you are likely to be offended by explicit sex – that sort of stuff – then don't read it. It draws on my experience, and that of people I know, plus my over-fertile imagination. Separated at eighteen-and-a-half! No, I never thought that was a possibility. I never for a moment entertained the possibility that marriage to Joss wouldn't work out. Bloody hell, I'd ditched the chance of going to Cambridge to get married to the bastard. And for what? To listen to his bloody heavy metal, smell his poxy pot smoke, and hear his incessant moaning about not having any money – for three months. Shit! The sex had been fantastic – at first. But then, I hadn't had much else, apart from a few fumbles behind the bike sheds. Come on, Jenny, I thought, stop feeling sorry for yourself! I sat on the bed in my newly-found studio flat, and went through my options. I'd landed a job easily enough with my hot-shot 'A' levels, working in an insurance office for half-decent money, so that I could afford the flat. I'd try for university – though it wouldn't be a posh one – next year. Meantime, there was the letter to consider. I held it in my hand and read it for the third or fourth time. My father wanted to see me! After all these years. My first instinct was to ignore him. But something kept bringing me back to the letter. My father had left my mother when I was five years old. Too young to know why, or be told properly. And I had never been told since. My mother met Raymond at a Bible Meeting, and he soon became my stepfather. We had a frosty relationship – he never ill-treated me, I have to say, but there was a lack of warmth, of humour, about him, that time never cured. In the letter, my father explained that he had been remarried, living abroad, and later divorced. During his time abroad, he had been too distant geographically to get in touch, and he had also been nervous of causing problems for my mother and her new husband. He had heard about my marriage and subsequent separation, and wondered if we could meet? The tone of the letter was oddly nervous – at odds with my vague recollection of my father: I had a distinct memory of him once doing battle with my formidable grandmother in the car, culminating in her getting out at a bus stop. Nobody before or since has seen fit to argue with her. He had signed the letter 'Bob' – not 'Dad' but 'Bob' – as if he was ashamed of himself, worried about his status, or what? The letter came from Venezuela, and the envelope contained a photo. It was a photo of a bronzed, fit-looking stranger, lounging against a wooden rail of some sort. He had a faint smile on his lips and close-cropped, greying hair. He wore an open-necked beige shirt and tan chinos. Each time I read the letter, I sneaked an almost guilty look at that photo, for it carried with it a certain chemistry I didn't want to try and explain. My colleague in the insurance office, Ben, had asked me out for a drink on that Saturday night, and, although still reeling from my separation, I needed to get Joss out of my system, so I agreed. I took a bit of time getting ready, and had a good look at myself. Not too much damage, I thought, considering. I had kept myself in trim, despite the unpleasantness, and could still wriggle into my size 10 dresses, which pleased me. I prided myself on my long blonde hair, and kept it clean and well-trimmed, so that when I slipped into a little black velvet number and stepped into my favourite high heels, I just needed a bit of jewellery to complete the picture. 'Not bad,' I said out loud, just as the door bell sounded. Ben took me to a nice country pub, where we had a light meal, a few drinks – Ben was good about drinking and driving, and stuck to low-alcohol stuff – then we wound up at his apartment, a state-of-the-art bachelor pad overlooking a park, where he wanted me to listen to his CD collection. (He really wanted to screw me, and knew that I knew it! - I thought I wouldn't mind if he did.) I sat on his leather sofa, and looked at him a he cam into the room with coffee. He wasn't at all bad, I thought. Fashionably shaven-headed, and well dressed in casual tee-shirt and good jeans, he was OK. One of those moments ensued, when nobody knows quite how to make the first move, but when I went to look at his CD collection, I knew he would be right behind me, and the closeness did it. He snaked his arms around me from behind, cupping my smallish, firm breasts. I wore no bra under the velvet dress, and could tell he liked the feel of my nipples hardening under his fingers' manipulation. He spun me around, and kissed me, lightly at first, then hard, probing insistently with his tongue, as I let my lips accept him in a mute invitation. I moulded my body to his, feeling him grow hard against me as his knee pushed my legs apart. 'Give me some air,' I gasped, pushing him gently away, and he led me to the sofa, where we sat down side-by-side. I reached for the buckle of his belt, and had to struggle with it, until he gave me a hand, then it was undone, together with the stiff top button of his jeans. The rest followed quickly, and I delved into his boxers, fishing out his impatient erection. In my relatively limited experience, he was not huge, but neither was he small, and his shaft was as hard as iron. When I pulled it out, a drop of precum was glistening on the very tip of his crown. As I leaned down to lick it away, he whisked my hair out of the way, so that he could see me take his cock into my mouth. I teased him for a while, licking his length, and massaging his balls gently in my hands, then slowly took him into my mouth, sucking gently at first, then harder as I took his whole length deeper into my throat. He groaned with pleasure, and would surely have cum there and then, had I not gripped the base of his cock hard with a hand encircling it, cutting off the blood-supply, and withdrawing my lips. 'Wait!' I ordered. Then I raised my arse off the sofa, so that I could ease the hem of my tight dress up and help him pull down my white silk panties. He was all thumbs as he did this, in a hurry to get at my honey-pot, but no more urgently than I was. It had been a few weeks since I had had sex, and the taste of a stiff cock in my mouth had my juices running freely. I threw one leg high over the back of the sofa, and planted the other foot on the floor, so that my wide-open pussy was displayed for Ben, and he growled like a wild beast when he saw me deliberately stretching my labia apart with two fingers, exposing the secret pinkness of my wet and waiting cunt. 'Oh,' he said, as he penetrated me, but it was then that I had the strangest sensation. For swimming before me, in that instant, I saw not Ben, but the clearest image of Bob's enigmatic smile, whilst against my cheek wasn't Ben's shaven head, but Bob's greying crew-cut. When I tensed and relaxed my vaginal muscles around Ben's shaft, it wasn't his, but one I had never seen – or held – and an orgasm welled up in me with an improbable force, so that I screamed, 'Now, give it to me, now, NOW!' Obediently, Ben spurted, and I felt the satisfaction of his young, hot spunk filling me, but as I grasped him, I looked over his shoulder, unwilling to look into his eyes, because, I knew, it was not Ben who had fucked me, given me a raging orgasm – no it was a photograph – but that photograph was of .........MY FATHER! I spent several days trying to analyse my feelings. Ben was keen to make another date, but I kept him at arm's length. Then, one evening, I got a text message from my father, to say he had arrived in the country, and had I considered whether I should like to meet him? My knees felt weak as I messaged back, agreeing to a meeting, and asking where and when. He lost no time in sending another text saying he would pick me up at my home at ten on Saturday morning – then we could 'spend the day together.' I had no idea what he had in mind, and had momentary and humorous visions of separated parents taking kids to the zoo. All I knew is that I could hardly wait for Saturday to come around, but also knew that I should be nervous as a kitten when it did. Saturday did come, and I got up early, taking ridiculous care over my preparations, washing my hair, doing nails and make-up with great patience, then agonising over what to wear. It was warm weather, so I eventually chose a white, layered cotton miniskirt to wear with a dark blue silk blouse. I always wore high heels, and chose a pair of strappy sandals. Tying my hair back with a blue ribbon to match my blouse, I thought I looked nice. I was just taking a final look at myself in the mirror, when the doorbell rang. I hadn't heard the car. I opened the door, and there he was – my Dad! It was one of those awkward moments, when you don't know whether you should kiss, shake hands, or what. We stood and looked at each other, until he broke the silence. 'You're a very beautiful young woman,' he said, with a tremor in his voice. 'I.....I....,' I started, and he reached out and put a finger to my lips. His touch was like an electric shock. 'Don't say anything,' he said, and his accent had acquired something foreign, strange, 'I have a lot to answer for, and a lot of time to make up. I hope you'll let me?' There was a question there. 'I'll let you do anything you like, I think,' I said, and blushed to my roots. It came out all wrong – or did it? He looked at me askance. 'You can't know how much I've thought about you over the years, Jenny,' he said. I was lost for words, emotions running wild, and blurted out, 'Your photo, and your letter, they stirred something in me, something I can't describe.' We were still standing in the hallway of my flat, close enough so that he must have been able to detect my rapid breathing. He put his big hand on my waist, and pulled me just a little closer, nuzzling my hair, and kissing me on the cheek. 'Got any coffee?' I heard him ask, though I was almost dizzy with whatever was going through my head. 'Er....yes, of course.' I led him into my little lounge and sat him on the sofa, and then went off to put the coffee machine in motion. When I came back with a tray of coffee things, he was looking at my CD collection. 'Strange how our tastes coincide,' he said, but my mind was on things that were stranger still. How could I desire my own father? Was I abnormal, or just a nymphomaniac? I looked at him, as I stood beside him. He had worn undeniably well over the years – had a firm, strong body and open features with a strong chin. But he was my father! God, what was happening to me? I wanted him with all my soul. What was more, I had just an inkling that it was mutual. As if reading my innermost thoughts, he put down the Bob Seeger album he had been looking at, and turned to me. 'We have an embarrassing chemistry Jenny, don't we?' he said, putting his hands on my shoulders and looking into my eyes with his slightly narrowed greyer versions of my own. I moved closer to him, touching him for the first time with my own hands, when I slipped an arm around his waist. As our lower bodies touched, it was impossible for him to hide the fact that he was sporting a king-sized erection, and this merely encouraged me to grind my belly into him. 'Oooh, yes, I'd say we do have a chemistry,' I agreed, and he silenced me by kissing me on the lips. I knew what we were doing was wrong, but we were now on an unstoppable train, and when I opened my mouth and let his probing tongue simulate sex in my mouth, I was lost. My nipples were now painfully erect, and his fingers found them under the soft silk of my blouse, kneading and tweaking them to heights of pain and pleasure which intermingled inexorably. I pushed him down on to the sofa, and, standing over him, let him watch as I slowly reached up under my short skirt and hooked my thumbs under the waistband of my white lace panties. I very slowly eased them down my long, slender legs, making him wait, and watch, as I stroked my thighs, and let my fingers play around my labia, under my trim little bush. He had meantime taken out his cock, and was stroking it gently – a huge, ramrod-straight weapon I ached to have within me. My cunt was soaking wet by now, and needed no lubrication when I gently lowered myself onto his lovely dick, impaling myself on a shaft which filled me so full I thought for a moment that he must tear me. He groaned with sheer joy as I gripped and released him with my cunt-muscles, and rode him, up and down, his balls slapping my arse with each stroke, while he cupped my firm tits and tortured my nipples with his fingers. Then he sought to increase my pleasure still further by moving one hand down to flick at my clit as I rode him, and I came in great searing waves, not once, but three times, while he fucked me. His control was fantastic, but he couldn't go on for ever, and when I knew he was about to cum, I rode him faster, so that I climaxed yet again, and then he stiffened, arched his back under me, and spurted, his creamy wad hitting my very cervix. 'Oh Daddy,' I said, teasingly, 'that was wonderful.' 'Absence,' he said, 'makes the heart grow fonder. But I don't know about you calling me Daddy.' I Never Thought "Hey stranger what's up?" Startled, I look up to see a very familiar face. Standing there oh-so-casually in his jeans and a black t-shirt, with his hands in his pockets, chatting and laughing with my friend Mark, no doubt catching up on everything that had gone on since we had been away. David. One of the few men I have met to be taller than me. I remember those broad shoulders, that full bottom lip, and those beautiful blue eyes. I can't help marveling again how I managed to be so attracted to a red head of all things, when I had always swooned for the dark haired muscle men in the past. They keep chatting and making plans while I stand dumbly behind the counter as all my fellow employees push past me to handle the rush. "So it looks like you're busy here why don't you meet us upstairs when you are off work." I give a brief nod with wide eyes, willing myself to be more confident and act natural. David's eyes dance as his casual smile lights up his face. He looks one last time at me over his shoulder still smiling at a hidden joke. Maybe not so hidden as I realize I stood transfixed the whole time without saying a word to either Mark or David. I can't believe we're back. Not just back, but both single and with the same friends. I thought I didn't have a chance in hell last year. He was with his girlfriend of three years, and only knew me as the little sister of Mark's room mate. I was so awkward. I know I must have giggled too much. I was always saying stupid things, like I couldn't control my mouth anymore. When his relationship started having problems and falling apart, I couldn't help myself from snooping around and hoping silently that they would break up. Then Mark, the traitor, telling him how I had been checking and wondering what was going on, embarrassing me like that. I finally gave up, embarrassed to be revealed and thinking that their relationship would drag on forever. I spent most of the summer and a bit of the first month of this new semester with Nate. He was nice you know? Well maybe not nice. But we had fun. Well not really much of that either. We fucked a lot. I think we really didn't have anything else in common, and after failed conversations and failed attempts to do things together, there was always sex to fall back on. It was nice while it lasted but it didn't take me long to realize we weren't really dating and it wasn't going anywhere. Then to my surprise I found comfort at the end to this confusing half-a-relationship in David. We started out chit-chatting in messenger and before I knew it I was pouring my heart out about my failed relationships and my thoughts and views on all sorts of things. It's much easier to be brave across the internet. *ring* *flip* "Hello?" "Hey, did you just get off work?" "Uh, ye-ah. I was just clocking out." "Well I was just about to take off from here, so instead of meeting up here in Mark's room, how about I walk you back to your place? It's on my way." "Oh okay. That's alright with me." "Great meet you out front in a bit." *click* Man it's such a nice night out. There's a nice breeze and the stars are so pretty. It's so peaceful. Maybe too peaceful, I haven't said a word this whole time. God, I bet he's bored. I wish I could think of something to say. Oh jeeze. I've been staring at him this whole time. I hope he didn't notice and think I am wierd. "Is this you?" "Huh!? Oh yeah this is my place." "Mind if I walk you up and check it out? I've never been to this dorm before." "Su-ure, it's not too exciting though." "I don't mind." I make my way up the stairs with him walking calmly behind me, letting me lead the way to my room. I honestly can't wait for him to take a peek inside and then head home so I can let out the breath I have been holding since we started our walk. With him walking in behind me my room seems so much tinier. I never noticed how cramped it feels with two people standing in my small lifeless dorm room. Shit, he must think I am a slob. Oh my God! Are those my panties on the floor? What was I thinking letting him come up here! "So this is it." I hear the door close softly behind me, while a second later hearing the light switch flip down as the room goes dark and my eyes adjust. "Hey what's.." I don't get a chance to ask my question; as I turn to see what he is up to, he wraps his arm around my back pulling me against him tightly, while dropping his lips down onto mine. How many times have I imagined kissing these lips? I have stared longingly at that bottom lip of his so many times wishing I could suck on it. Remembering that thought and drifting out of my momentary surprise at what was going on, I suck his soft full lower lip in between my lips, running my tongue lightly over it as I do so. I've got to be dreaming. I start to melt into his one armed embraced as his free hand traces slowly along my side. Just as I raise my arms to wrap around his neck and melt even more into this deep dreamy kiss, he pushes me back solidly. My knees are forced to buckle as they bump into the side of the bed, leaving me sitting there slightly stunned. I stare wide-eyed wondering what happened to my suddenly-burst-bubble, foggily realizing that he is stripping his t-shirt off over his head, revealing those pale wide shoulders I have only fantasized over. Just as he undoes his jeans and starts to reach his hand into the newly unearthed boxers peeking out, he must have realized I was about to ask questions or get up, because faster than I could blink he had me lying back on the bed with a knee in between my legs kissing me again. He was slowly grinding his knee against my pussy through my jeans as he pulled back from this stolen kiss with a soft "shhh". With that he stood back out of my line of sight, which was fuzzily fixed on the ceiling above me with my eyes half lidded. I recognize somewhere in my head as I get jostled around gently, that my jeans are sliding down my hips and my work shirt is being unbuttoned and pulled aside. The cool air on my wet panties and across the thin bra covering my nipples wakes me up enough to widen my eyes. I start to roll to the side only to have his hand grip my inner thigh firmly and hold me there with fearful strength. I turn my head in time to see him lift my leg into the air and over his shoulder, leaving me awkwardly laying on my side with my legs spread wide as one lies on the bed and the other is stretched up and over his shoulder. I look into those blue eyes I was falling in love with just as I felt his hand pull my panties to the side, while his other hand rubs the head of his cock up and down my slick lips. "You're a little slut aren't you honey? I feel how wet your naughty little pussy is." Surprised at the words said in such a loving way I gasp at the moment he thrusts himself forward into me. Forgetting whatever verbal onslaught I had for him as he thrusts harder and faster into my waiting pussy, my legs straining wide in this position while his cock goes in terribly deep. His hand leaves its job of holding my panties back to snake softly over my belly and onto my breast. He starts to pull and tug at my nipple as he pounds his thick cock in and out of my pleased slit. I half close my eyes with my mouth open and gasping as he keeps asking softly. "You're a little dirty slut aren't you Violet?" "You like getting fucked don't you?" I manage to nod my head yes while I half moan and half scream. "Oh God David. Oh God. Please fuck me. Just fuck me." He rolls me over onto my stomach never letting his cock slip out and only pausing briefly as he pulls my hips high into the air letting my knees fall naturally underneath me onto the bed to hold me up. My arms lay numbly underneath me with the side of my face is pressed against the bed as his thrusts rock me back and forth on the bed. He reaches one hand down to pinch my nipple while keeping his other hand on my hip to pull me back roughly onto his pounding cock. Tears run out of my closed eyes as my mouth is open in silent gasps while wave after wave of orgasm hits me. My inner walls grasp his cock so tightly that I can feel his length twitch and tighten as he pumps thick strings of cum deep inside of me. We collapse on to my bed with his body tucked around mine, spooning my back to his chest with my butt tucked against his now spent cock. He slides his free arm up to slide two of his fingers into my mouth. I close my lips around them and suck contently as I drift off to sleep. Distantly, I feel lips press against my temple as I hear David's voice saying softly. "You're mine now." I Never Thought... I would consider myself lucky. You would consider yourself lucky too if in your dullest, longest and most tedious class there was a cute girl sitting next to you. The class was Economics 101, and no college career would be complete without an incomprehensible class that seemed to never end. The fact that all my fellow college buddies are hanging out at this time while I'm stuck in class just makes it more tortuous. Supporting my head with my hand, I attempted to listen about elasticity, understanding nothing at all, before I glanced at the one thing that kept me from dropping this damned class. She's listening intently, her hand copying down a complex graph in her notebook. Her hand only stopped to brush her curly brown hair out of her eyes. I know when you're in a boring class and have a cute girl nearby to awe at, your standards tend to relax. For example: a girl may only be a solid six on a scale of one to ten in a normal situation, but in a really boring situation, she will turn into a nine. (The same phenomenon can be seen with female professional athletes.) In this case though, she honestly was a nine. My ranking went up a whole point just for her legs. Speaking of her legs, she was wearing a blue miniskirt today. Why? I tend not to entertain such questions when something so wonderful happens. My eyes drifted down from above the desk to down below it and at that miniskirt and the bounty that it allowed me to see: her legs. They were white and smooth. They were begging for my hands to run up the thighs from the knees and into the slit that lies between those thighs. She would squirm, her slim body twisting at my touch, the heat of her sex pulsing and her soft cries of pleasure would echo loudly in my mind and loins. Perhaps it would be more accurate to describe it that I was begging to run my hands on her thighs, rather then her thighs begging me. Such is life, those that desire go on wanting, while those that are desired barely acknowledge your existence. I sighed as I turned my glance from her legs back toward the whiteboard, with graphs in Thai spread about it. No, it was not actually Thai, but considering how much I understood, it might as well been. Another twenty minutes of boredom until the end of class awaited me as I returned to the dull activity known as spacing out. The only thoughts that drifted into my blank mind were that of the girl, but not necessarily of anything sexual value, but rather trying to remember her name. A few of the random names included: Elise, Miranda, Leticia and Maude. I think it ended with a vowel, but I I never actually had much of a conversation with her, so there was no official introductions. Spacing out like this tends to not bring about anything of value, but I continued it nevertheless. Not paying attention and actively doing nothing is better than paying attention and understanding nothing. That is until I saw a bit of movement out of the corner of my eye. A wonderful, beautiful, little bit of movement. Her legs were rubbing against each other, maybe she had an itch, but why she was doing it was wholly irrelevant, the fact it was presenting a fine amount of extra skin to the world. Her right thigh rubbed up and down against her left leg. It was slow, but as she rubbed her thigh up and down against the left one, I spotted something strange on the inside of her left thigh. To see such a thing on a girl would be something that would definitely raise an eyebrow. In a way, it was repulsive and also strangely arousing. She has a birthmark that looked a little like the state of Maine on the inside of her left thigh. I smiled, I have seen something that she would only let a choice few see. The unintended erotic dance of her legs continued. Her flesh grinded against itself, feeding my mind with images of subtle eroticism to expand upon in my imagination. When you're bored or preoccupied with a girl's fidgeting legs, you tend to ignore any other distractions that may crop up, including the background noise that may or may not include the monotone lecturing of an economics professor. However, one noise rose above that white noise. From the girl's lips came a tiny sigh, not a sigh of boredom or disappointment, but one of pleasure. Said sigh was promptly recorded into my memory. The display stopped suddenly though, and I looked up, stopping for a moment to take in the sight of her breasts, before noticing I was son the receiving end of a glare. Her eyes were accusatory. 'Were you ogling me?' She said without a word, but with a subtle gesture. I shirked, I was caught. My hand was in the cookie jar, and Mom was watching the whole time. Responding with a guilty nod, I made sure to elaborate via non-verbal communication that I could not help it. Her legs were simply a work of art I could do nothing but admire. Although sometimes a good compliment can calm a furious woman down a little, in this case, I was serious. She snorted, made her glare twice as harsh for a moment just to drive her disgust with me home and returned her attention to the lecturing professor. Defeated, I turned to the clock on the wall. There was still another ten minutes. At least I had a fresh bit of material to space out about. After around eleven agonizing minutes, I was in the one place on campus I could truly relax. The men's restroom right by my economics class. Due to a bad, and totally untrue rumor that it's never cleaned, it is always empty. I stand in front of my urinal, the third one from the left, and empty my mind. It is only in this place can I truly think about the important things that happened during the day, or in my entire twenty year long life for that matter. As my mind reached that moment of zen, the important things drifted into focus. Relaxing like this also means I release what waste fluids that need to come out, hence why I relax in front of the urinal, with my dick out. With only a moment of non-concentration, the important thing of the day, the one true thing I must remember, came to mind. That girl and her thighs' dance of eroticism and to cap it all off, that wonderful, wonderful sigh of pleasure. What a sight. I joked that I might pad that story with some torrid sex scene in the courtyard, write it up and send it into Penthouse. "Dear Penthouse, I never thought this would happen to me..." I uttered in a whisper before bursting into laughter. With a double shaking of my member sending those last drops of urine into the urinal, I moved my fingers to button my jeans. Then to the zipper to finish the job. Only I found that my hand was not alone by my crotch. Someone else was grasping my cock. This hand wasn't just grasping me, it was playing with me. It was caressing my balls, stroking the shaft into rigidity. I reached up and pulled the lever to flush the urinal. "Just relax." The voice was right by my ear, soft, quite and feminine. The hand was expertly manipulating my hardening cock, it knew exactly what it was doing. The fingers ran gently across the underside of my balls, it toyed with the head of my shaft. It didn't take long for me to start breathing heavily because of this hand's swift movements. It only too a few moments; moments, not minutes, to get me hard, achingly so. But then the pleasure train stopped as suddenly as it began. "Turn around." The voice whispered. With the amount of blood that was flowing to my swollen cock, there wasn't enough blood left for my brain to do anything but do what the voice said. The breathy voice that was whispering in my ear belonged to that of the girl, not just any girl, the girl that kept me from dropping out of Economics. She looked down at my erect cock with her azure eyes and then looked right back at me. "Do you want to continue?" There was no veiled meaning, she meant exactly what she said with ever fiber of her being. It was posed as a question, but any guy who had been in this situation knew that it was not a question that merited any thought. When a 24 year old (at least she looks that way) with a killer body gives you a fantastic hand job and asks you if you want to continue, you say yes. You say yes like Bill Gates asks if you want a billion dollars. You say yes like when you are asked if you are a god by an androgynous Sumerian god. I looked at this woman, her brown curls draping down her shoulders and left hand resting on the hem of her skirt, and nodded. My own body would have completely shut down in protest if I did otherwise. There are many kinds of smile, and some of them can be compound smiles. The woman smiled happily and with a healthy dose of naughty intent. She gestured downward with her head. "Then you'll have to take care of me, and then we can get to business." Her hand lifted the hem of her miniskirt a little, further tempting me with a bit more skin. Dropping to my knees, I wrapped a hand around her left leg right at the knee. Given the chance, after only maybe at most half an hour of wanting, I enacted my fantasy. I ran my hand along her soft thighs, each tiny stroke reaching higher and higher up her leg. My tongue went for her right leg, and danced opposite my hand. By the time my hand was caressing the great birthmark of Maine, my tongue and hand was reaching into the inside of her skirt. I could sense the heat and scent of her womanhood. Her hands laid on my head and she pushed it away. "Let me remove my skirt..." I obeyed and watched the small blue skirt fall from her hips and down. The only thing they covered now were her ankles. A snow white thong was the only thing that covered her genitals now, and there was a strangeness to the shape underneath. I looked back up at her. "You still want to continue?" She said with just a touch of worry in her tone and expression. "You know what may happen, right?" She had me when she gave me a hand job. I pulled one of the knots on the side of her thong, and the strip of cloth fell to the floor. A cock, half erect, and a pair of testicles were presented in front of me. Her one eyed monster perked up when it saw me. If it could make noise, would be chirping like a baby bird, begging for attention, nourishment. I kissed the head. This only made it stand further erect and beg for more attention. So I gave it more attention, wrapping my lips around the head. My lips went down the side of her shaft, puckered until I cupped one of her balls in my mouth. I played with this girl's testicle ever so carefully with my tongue. I knew how much it would hurt if I played roughly after all. She leaned her upper body forward, resting her hand on the wall behind me. Her body hung above my head and brushed against the stray strands of hair that stood up. With my hands gripping her hips, I took the head of her cock into my mouth. As I basked in the scent of woman that emanated from her, I pushed my head forward and started to give her a blowjob. As my head started to bob back and forth into her groin, I was reminded of all the boys in middle school who's response to anyone and anything they disagreed with or disliked was 'Gay'. In that day, anyone who wasn't cool would be insulted that they should change their wicked ways or be brushed aside by the rest of society and burn for their supposed sins. The thought of a guy sucking a cock, or a girl with one would be ridiculed as such. It was when the girl let out soft moans of pleasure that I truly knew that those kids were fucking stupid. Screw their intolerant ways, sucking a girl's cock was awesome and the girl was gorgeous. My blowjob was a crude affair. Her cock going in and out of my mouth was not only being pleasured by my tongue and lips, but also unfortunately my teeth. The skill was not one I have practiced, but given the way her hips were rhythmically thrusting into my mouth, I figured that my passion for it was making up for it. Her left hand caressed the back of my head, weaving around my hair in an instinctual reaction to the pleasure I was giving her. It would dig into my head and guide it toward the fellatio that she desired. "Oh god..." The woman uttered as her hips, previously thrusting back and forth, stopped. Her voice, initially so soft and collected in the beginning of this encounter became more loud and ecstatic. "I'm gonna cum!" I pulled my head away from her hips and her cock left my mouth just as she ejaculated. Pearly strands of hot semen hit me in the face. The scent of semen was never unfamiliar with me, I am a healthy young man after all, but never before have I been so intimately familiar with it. A little of it was on my lips, but my tongue cleaned that up. After tasting that, I looked up at her. She reached out to me and helped me to my feet. "Thanks. I needed that." No words would come to my mouth, whether out of being honored or embarrassed, so I merely nodded and gave her a wave of my hand, basically saying that it was no problem. But as I went to a sink to start and wash the semen of off my face, as well as wash my hands after urinating, she asked another question. "Do you want to continue?" The questioned echoed almost ominously in the silent restroom, only the sound of running water dared compete with it. I cupped my hands under the water and splashed the water on my face. As the water washed away the semen this amazing hot and fascinating girl shot onto my face, it washed away any doubts I might have had. I turned my head toward the girl, smiled and nodded just a tiny bit. It's okay, I don't mind. The girl was right behind me now, her hand reaching around my waist, undoing the lone button that kept my jeans on. She pulled my underpants and jeans down to just above my knees. I had joked about it earlier, but now it was starting to sound like a letter to Penthouse. Those letters are always so fake, but I guess if something like this is happening to me, I guess it must be true in some very rare cases. I think this might be some sort of dream actually, but before I could go about and pinch myself, it seems that someone stuck something into my butt and gave the exact same shock that a pinch would. Her moan and my groan were perfectly synchronized as she plunged her cock into my ass. If there was an Olympic event for synchronized cries that danced and intermingled in the air, we definitely would have had a shot at a medal. The experience was not one I would call pleasurable at first, her movements were kindly slow, but it only gave sufficient time to dread each moment of pain. But she repaid my kindness of offering up my own butt with giving that wonderful hand job again. (It makes sense now why she'd be so good at it, she has a cock of her own to practice with.) Her repeated moans of pleasure as her hips bounced against my ass were like the harmonious crooning of an angel. Plus, compared sitting through a two hour economics lecture, this actually pretty damn arousing. The girl leaned forward, and her breasts were pressed against my back. As her hips sped up, her soft moans became louder and more passionate as well. The cock in my ass swelled it explored and plunged in and out of me. Her hand was moving as passionately as hips to please me as well as I pleased her. Well, it would be more accurate to say that the hand was pleasing me as well as she pleased me with cock. Her breasts, even still obscured with clothing, pressed against my back was a bonus. The multi-pronged assault was just becoming too satisfying to prevent me from panting and moan in pleasure along with her. I must have been quite a spectacle, my hands resting on the edge of a restroom sink, my pants above my knees, with a gorgeous girl behind me fucking and giving me a hand me like a wild beasts. Our moans and howls of pleasure echoing among the pristine ceramic urinals. I knew it was a hell of a spectacle, I was watching it in the mirror in front of me. Wonderful thing, mirrors. Her face was buried in my shoulders screaming wonderful cries of ecstasy into my shirt. Her bucking hips continued, stronger, faster. I wouldn't have been surprised if her hips started to fall apart like some sort of jalopy in a silent movie at this speed. "C-can I cum inside?" She cried out. "Can I?" If you always say yes to a woman asking if you want to continue, you can't say no to her if she's crying out in sheer pleasure like that, no matter the question or circumstance. I looked into the mirror in front of me and nodded, telling her, once again, that it was okay. Perhaps I was also nodding to the me in the mirror, agreeing that well, I didn't really mind having to clean out semen from my own ass today. The girl that had made my economics class almost bearable, who I ogled on a regular basis, who I desperately wanted to have sex with, stopped fucking me. With a series of jolts, she let loose cum inside of me The simple sigh of pleasure she had given me not even an hour ago was replaced in the cherished sounds part of my mind by her scream of ecstasy as she vented sexual frustration with my own body. Her cry itself was enough to cause me to let loose onto the floor, her hand job and fucking of me just compounded upon that. The load I unleashed upon the restroom floor was enough to cause a despondent sigh in even the most optimistic and cheery of janitors. The duet of moans and cries of ecstasy ceased. We had finished and after a few moments, we were resting sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall. Brushing aside beads of sweat from her forehead, the girl breathed a sigh of relief. The fact that she was still naked from the waist down was not a source of embarrassment. Although it wasn't like I was any more bashful, well, my pants and underpants were halfway on, but I didn't care either. "So..." I said when I started to catch my breath "What brought this on?" "It's scary to jack off in the car." She turned to me, and I got a good chance to glance at those blue eyes "It's a half an hour drive home, and I wouldn't be able to concentrate unless I got off, so..." "Yeah, but why me?" She rolled her. "You were gawking at me, so I figured it'd be easy to seduce you." Gawking at the girl like a foolish and horny thirteen year old apparently got me laid, I was confounded by how lucky I was. Maybe my life was a letter to Penthouse. If that's true, I await my next stop at the laundromat as redheaded twins will fellate me while I get my change. I nodded at her. "Can we do it again?" While she was busy getting dressed again, she looked back at me. "Yeah, why not?" The grin on my face must have been a mile wide as she tied the knot of her thong, with her ass only a foot in front of me. That is, until I realized my economics class would just be more agonizingly long if I was awaiting something afterward. Luck demands sacrifices paid in agonizing wait periods it seems. I Never Thought Susannah Fancied Me I had no idea that Susanna fancied me. We work for the same company, in different departments, and we’d only met a few times before, at various business functions. We’re both fairly senior, but we do very different jobs. We knew of each other’s existence, and from my point of view, that was about the extent of it. I’d seen her walking into work once and offered her a lift, which she’d accepted. We chatted away in my car, but I thought nothing of it. Last week, I found myself in the pub after work. Sometimes we all end up there, and sometimes it goes late. About 10:00, I saw Susanna talking to a couple of her team. Our management are always telling us to get to know other parts of the company better, so I thought I’d go and talk to Susannah. She acknowledged me sitting down next to her, but carried on her conversation. I had to wait for her to finish before I could butt in. “How’re you doing”, I was able to ask, eventually. “Not so bad”, she replied, giving me a big grin. We talked about business for a bit. That was easy. We agreed that the two of us should talk more. The pub was closing, and Susanna’s team wanted to move on somewhere. I suggested my place. I’d been to France recently and had a few cases of wine stashed in the kitchen. Back at my gaff, Susannah helped me pour drinks. While Susannah’s team were looking through my CD collection, she reached over and put her arm around my neck pulling my lips towards hers. I’m single, so there seemed no reason to resist. Susannah’s a very attractive woman, so I planted a full smacker back onto her lips. I was conscious that her team might see her ‘in action’. “Are you sure?” I whispered. She nodded and pulled me towards her again. In actual fact, we finished our illicit kiss before anyone noticed. My guests agreed on a particular album to listen to. Everyone was having a good time, dancing ang chatting away. Susannah and I kissed again, this time in front of her team. About half-an-hour later, Susannah asked me to kick everyone out. I knew what she intended, so I called a minicab. The taxi arrived amazingly fast considering it was the middle of the night. Once the others had left, Susannah and I sat on the couch. I pushed my face to hers. She avoided my kiss, wanting to talk for a while. We swapped stories, talking about girlfriends and boyfriends past. Eventually we talked our way around to sex again, then began snogging, and I said, “I think I’d better take you upstairs”. “What gets you really turned on?” Susannah asked me. “Everything”, I said. “I love sex. Everything turns me on. What about you?” Susannah tried to look bashful. “”Everything turns me on too”, she said, kissing me. I felt her tits through her shirt. Susannah tentatively rubbed my cock through my jeans. “But is there anything that really gets you off?” I saw no reason to lie. Two hours ago she was just another colleague. And she wasn’t about to tell anyone what happened. She’d be more embarassed than me. “I love everything”, I said, “but the one thing that really gets me off is anal”. Susannah only reacted by kissing me again, no harder, no different than before. My hand found its way to her crotch. I rubbed her nub through her jeans. Then she stood and extended her hand, pulling me upstairs to my bedroom. Susannah sat on the edge of the bed as I went for a pee, and washed my cock. When I came out of the toilet she was still sitting on the edge of the bed, now completely naked. The first thing I noticed were her breasts. By their late 30s, womens’ breasts have often begun to sag a little, but Susannah’s were as pert as an 18-year-old’s. They were small, which probably helped, with wide and chocolate-mousse-dark aureole. I dumped my own clothes as fast as possible and we sank into the bed. Our hands began to explore each other’s bodies. Susannah’s pussy amazed me, it was almost clean-shaven, with just a porn-star stripe of hair. She was amazingly responsive, with every touch eliciting a little moan of pleasure. With that gorgeous pussy good and wet, I climbed on top. As I was about to enter Susannah, she told me to stop. “I want to suck you first,” she said. With that Susannah grabbed my cock and began to wank it. “God it’s so wide”, she said. “All the better to fuck you with”. “You will, baby, you will.” She was an expert head-giver, lots of round-the-tip tongue action combined with a firmly gripped up-and-down wanking of my shaft. I would have come any time soon, so I moved around, taking my cock away, and placing my mouth on her mound to return the favour. I licked my tongue up the length of her slit. Then again, and again, and again, and again, until her juice began to flow. I started to swirl my tongue around her clit, and Susannah’s hips went wild. It was all I could do to keep my tongue on her pussy. She started making the moaning noises I always listen for, so I found her clit and clamped my mouth on it, locking it into my gums, sucking and flicking it against the back of my front teeth. A minute or so of this and Susannah’s body was vibrating like the bottom string of a bass guitar. Suddenly her legs clasped around my head. She was coming all right, coming like a freight train. I sucked her clit harder and she gripped harder with her thighs. Pain began to build in my cheeks and lips as both of us increased pressure. My jaw felt like it was going to separate from my face. I wasn’t sure I could take it, and I began to think about pulling away. Susannah felt me yielding. Her hand pushed my head even harder into her cunt. I knew what she wanted. I sucked as hard as I could. The pain in my cheeks and lips was like some sort of g-force simulator - there was no way she was getting out of this without an orgasm. Then Susannah wailed. Her hips bucked at least a foot into the air, her pubic bone catching my chin like a left hook from Tyson. As her pelvis returned to the bed, I whipped my tongue again at her clit. Her hips bucked even harder and she pulled my head away, to say, ‘no more’. Susannah was panting, reeling on my bed. True euphoria had been achieved, and I felt like a sex god. She threw her arms around me, and we lay uncovered, basking in the heat and sweat of her. A few minutes later I began to stroke Susanah’s slim, brown legs. She twisted on the mattress to let me stroke more and more of her, clearly enjoying it. Needless to say, my hand found its way up her inner thigh, then towards her almost completely shaved bush. I was glad there was still a little tuft of hair left. Just something to remind me this was a real woman. It was getting late and I was tired. Susannah had had her orgasm. She stroked my cock, but it felt a little flaccid. I wasn’t sure that she understood me as well as I understood her. “What do you want?” she asked. “I want you”, I replied. “I’m not sure you do, I‘m not sure you fancy me enough”. The girl was being difficult, intentionally so. I knew the ploy, so I did what you have to do. I grabbed my bathrobe and went downstairs to have a smoke. Five minutes later, I went back upstairs and Susannah apologised. “What do you want?” she asked. I responded by putting the head of my cock at the entraqnce to her vagina. I pushed in and built up a rhythm. Her noises began again. It felt wonderful to me, hot, soft, and like I could come at any time, depending on how fast I went: total control. Just as I was getting my spunk up, she asked to me, “do you wanna come on my face, or come on my tits?” “How about in your mouth”, I said. I pulled out of her cunt and placed my cock on her chest. She grabbed it and began to suck. After a few minutes I hadn’t come. Susannah said, “do you want to fuck my arse?” I didn’t need a second invitation. Susannah’s arse was brown, smooth, muscular, and just plain gorgeous. I used some juice form her pussy and spit from my mouth to lubricate her. I had some K-Y in the bathroom cabinet, but it wasn’t even necessay, she was so wet. Susannah rested on her side. I pushed the tip of my cock into her arse. She didn’t react, so I pushed again. “Ow”, she said. I knew to relax, and stop. Thirty seconds or so later, Susannah had relaxed, and I pushed again, this time my cock eased its way into her. We shifted position, so that she was on her kness, and I was directly behind her. She pushed back, gradually taking more of me inside. With another couple of thrusts I was amazed. I’d had anal sex with lots of women before, but none who could take the entire length of my cock. Once fully inside her I began to thrust. Her ass gripped me like no blowjob has ever known. Her face was so gorgeous, her ass was so gorgeous, her tits were so gorgeous, her pussy was so gorgeous, it just all came together in one enormous volume of desire for Susannah. I orgasmed deep, and hard, inside her. We lay together for a while, luxuriating in our physical abilites, thinking we were cleverer than anyone else in the world. “You didn’t tell me you liked anal”, I said to Susannah. “I don’t particularly”, she said. “But I thought you might”. She was right.