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Wanderlust

By: mrbutch



Just imagine it, in a fit of madness I decided to go away with my parents and little brother on a driving holiday to France, and guess what we were just starting out on the journey home after a week of mind numbing boredom when the car broke down. 

My father, in his infinite wisdom, had decided that he didn’t need any special breakdown cover because the chances of the car going wrong were so slim. 

So there I was, a 20 year old girl stuck in the middle of nowhere with my arguing parents and spotty 15 year old brother, and I had turned down the chance to go to Ibiza just so I could spend some time with my folks. 

I got out my small mirror just to check my face for something to do and my brother started,

“What you doing your make up for, you not likely to pull out he.” He sniggered.

“I’m just making sure that I don’t look like a total wreck, or that I’m as spotty and greasy as you are!” I shot back.

“Tart.”

“Shitbag.”

“Shut up you two,” screamed our Mother, “thins are bad enough as it is without you two starting.”

“Sorry Mum, but we’ve been stuck here now for nearly three hours and we haven’t even seen another car go past.” I apologised

“I know honey, but your Dad is trying to sort it out.”

“Yeah I know Mum but I really need the toilet.” My mother scanned the bleak landscape, “We’’ you’ll just have to use that ditch that runs the other side of the road.”

“Yeah right Mum, that’s gross.”

“Well it’s that or nothing at the moment so stop moaning.”

I knew I was going to have to swallow my pride, my bladder was near bursting point. I crossed over to the other side of the road a scrambled down in to the ditch. Keeping a sharp eye on my family I hitched up my skirt, pulled down my thong and squatted, it was a feeling of relief when the pee started coming out of me and hitting the ground. Strangely though that feeling turned to something different when a gentle breeze brushed across my naked bottom and between my legs. 

The feel of the air felt so good on my bare skin that I stayed there even after I had stopped peeing, letting the wind blow against my pussy, I began to feel myself getting wet inside and I let my hand drift towards it.

“Kerry, are you alright over there?” The sound of my mothers voice brought me sharply back to reality, quickly pulling my thong back on I called back to let her know I was okay, now as I walked back over to the car I was not only fed up but frustrated as well! As I sat there all I could think of was that feeling of the wind on my body and it just left me feeling hornier and hornier.

Eventually we were rescued, a local garage with a trucked and towed us to the nearest town where the garage people said they would be able to fix it but not until the next day. The garage owner told us that there was a small hotel at the edge of the town that would probably be able to put us up over night, so off we went to find it. 

The edge of town was no exaggeration, in fact there was no town beyond the hotel only woodland, “great” I thought to myself, “another night of insane boredom.” Once I had put everything in my room (a room I had to share with my brother) I decided that I had had enough of everyone’s company and announced that I was going out for a walk. 

I made my way to the back of the hotel and entered the woods. After walking for quite a time I got a little bit tired, so I found myself a nice little sunny glade and just sat down and relaxed. As I was sitting with my eyes closed I felt the soft breeze against my skin, it instantly brought the memories of earlier flooding back. 

I moved slightly so that the breeze would flow along my legs and up in to my skirt, where it caressed my thong and my pussy that lay beneath. I lay like that for a while but the feelings that were welling up inside me were becoming uncontrollable.

I opened my eyes and looked around nervously to make sure nobody was about, but nerves were defeated by raw desire. I lifted my skirt and removed my knickers, then I lay down again, now the wind blew gently straight on to my wet pussy, the sensation sent a shiver of pure lust down my spine, I needed to feel more. I took of my t-shirt and bra and let the air play across my entire body, my nipples were so hard now as the wind gently kissed them. 

As it did so I could feel a deep hot passion welling inside me, my hands began to caress my body in tune with the summer breeze, eventually my right hand found it’s way between my legs as I opened myself to let the air penetrate deeper. 

My left hand tenderly stoked across my small breasts heightening the intense pleasure of my body while with my right I began to slowly rub myself, sending electric sensations through my entire being. 

This was like nothing else I had experienced before, this was pure self-love, no thoughts of any men running through my imagination, no desire to be held in someone’s arms, no lust for a cock ramming deep inside me, just the total indulgence of me and nature’s own power. 

As my hand worked my clit faster and I let my fingers slip urgently inside me, I entered a whole new realm of existence, my whole being was transported to a new realm of desire and lust. 

Suddenly my body arched and the biggest orgasm that I had ever had ripped though me, my whole body quaking with pure gratification. 

As the enchantment wore off and I came back down to earth, the realisation came that I was completely naked in the middle of no-where, again though, I checked nervously to make sure no one was around, luckily there wasn’t.

I dressed quickly and made my way back to the hotel, my mother commented that I looked at bit muddy, I couldn’t look her in the eye when I told her that I had slipped.

A few days later we were back home and I had bought back with me a whole new sense of being and it wasn’t long before I was studying maps to find where the nearest woods were!

Wanderlust 01



Una opened her eyes abruptly. Light poured into the room through the thin, lace curtains adorning the full-length windows. The unfamiliar bed was soft beneath her, and her body was caressed by smooth, silken sheets.

Una's mind started to race, memories flooding back to her. Where was her love, Gael? More pressingly, where was she? Una had no recollection of being in this room before. She sat up in bed. There was a fireplace with a stone hearth, and an ornate armoire with a matching vanity. The gilded mirror on the vanity provided her with a clear view of herself. Her long red hair was tousled as if she had been shaken. She admired the shiny golden mirror; since the wars had begun twelve years ago, precious metals had become increasingly scarce, as gold mining had all but been abandoned in favor of steel for weaponry. 

She thought again of her husband, Gael. He was a warlord of the Osis tribe. They were newlyweds, having met only a year prior. She had begged the Osis people for shelter after her own village was torched to the ground. Gael alone took pity on her, saving her from becoming another nameless casualty of war. She spoke little of her past to him, yet they became as close as two lovers could be in this mad, broken new world. She wanted to be back home in her familiar bed. She wanted his body to caress hers, making her feel safe and loved. Where was she? What was this luxuriously adorned room? Una blinked, remembering a glimpse of the night before.

A strong, masculine hand reached down, grabbing her by the waist. The man hoisted her onto his silver horse and firmly held her body in place next to his. She breathed in his scent and the felt the cool, fresh rain dripping onto her white gown. She looked over her shoulder to see his face; chiseled cheekbones and a deep set brow. As she gazed at him he looked down, his sapphire blue gaze piercing her with a blazing heat she had seen from men only in battle or in love. "Aidan," she gasped.

The first few hooks in her corset had been unlaced, allowing her to breath comfortably. She was still fully clothed, though, and she silently thanked the gods for that. The wise ones passed down a saying, "all's fair in love and war." Though she had seen many suffer, as a small, beautiful woman, she was lucky to have been spared violence in the wars thus far. 

Her jewelry was intact—a rough-cut, pink diamond engagement ring and matching wedding band, as well as a small simple silver ring strung around her neck on a chain, sentimental in value.

There was a knock on the door. Una started slightly, unnerved and a bit scared. Without leaving time for her to respond, a woman in peasant attire came through the door carrying a small tray. She was about Una's age, though taller and fuller in figure.

"Good morning, miss," said the woman.

"Good morning. Wh...where am I, please?" Una responded, shaken, but determined to remember what had happened and regain her composure. There must be a rational explanation.

"In the Sun Fortress, miss."

Una knew the Sun Fortress to be the base for the Taurani clan. She said nothing, hoping for more information. The maid did not elaborate, and instead set down her tray next to the bed and walked across the room to the fireplace, prodding the dying flames. The tray held a clay tea pot and cup, along with some sort of scone. 

"Aidan tells me you had a rough night. I'm here to make sure you're comfortable, miss. Better keep you warm. Is your gown still wet?"

Una slipped her hands under her blankets, feeling the soft fabric of her gown.

"No. It's fine." 

Una laid back down as the maid tended to the room. So it was Aidan who had carried her here last night. But how? Her mind raced as she remembered the love they once shared. She felt exhausted and more than anything, just wanted to rest.

***

Una opened her eyes once more. She was becoming used to the room. She felt groggy, but peaceful. She gazed through the lace curtains into what looked like a forest far away. She must have been very high up in the fortress, as mostly she just saw the red and gold sky. Rain pounded on the stone roof, and clouds covered much of the otherwise brilliant colors of the sunset. How long had she slept? Her thoughts were cut short as a deep voice interrupted the silence.

"You are as beautiful as I remembered you."

Startled, she turned to look at the seated, masculine figure.The face was solemn, but there was a warmth in his sapphire eyes. His skin was weathered from battle, with a scar crossing from one cheek down to his broad mouth. He looked older, and worn down, but it was a face she knew deeply.

"Aidan." They gazed at each other for a time. Her eyes were wide with bewilderment, asking the questions her lips couldn't yet find the words for. Finally, she softly spoke.

"I thought you were dead."

He said nothing, clasping his hands in his lap. He straightened his back, giving some idea as to his intimidating stature. His shoulders were broad, thicker than she remembered, likely from wielding a sword for so long. She reflected on the last time she had seen him, two years ago.

He knelt down, looking up at her face as tears streamed down her rose-hued cheeks. He pulled a ring from his pocket. 

"If I come back..." He looked down, choking back tears. This was the first time she saw him cry. He held her small hand and slid the ring onto her finger. She reached down and caressed his cheek, gently lifting his head.

"When you come back, I will be your wife."

"I still love you. I've thought of nothing but seeing you again." Aidan said, confident and calm.

Una paused. Breathless in his presence. "I'm...I uh...I'm married." She stuttered apologetically, glancing down at her diamond ring, before stroking the thin chain around her neck, feeling the smooth curves of the silver band at its end.

"I saw your ring," he said, pausing. "...but I notice you kept mine."

Una felt overwhelmed. His voice was soothing. She wanted to embrace him. Kiss him. Tears began forming as she tried to hold back a sob. It didn't work. She lost what little composure she had. Clutching at her sheets, she tried to speak.

"I'm so sorry," she managed between sobs. "...I'm so glad...just so glad that you're ok."

Aidan stood up, moving closer to embrace her. She welcomed him warmly, letting his broad figure envelop her. Whether she accepted his touch out of pure need or genuine joy, she was yet unsure.

***

Una awoke in near darkness. She felt a warm body lying behind her, embracing her. Holding her waist and pressing against her back. She grasped a hand and recognized it as Aidan's. She closed her eyes, feeling safe. Aidan stirred awake. He stroked her long hair, brushing it away from the side of her face. She dared not turn towards him. He kissed her neck softly, tracing the spots he knew she loved him to touch. She stilled, wanting him to go on, but knowing she couldn't be unfaithful to Gael. Aidan apparently read her body language and stopped.

"Talk to me." Aidan said softly, and a little too alluringly for Una to ignore him.

"I can't. I want to...part of me wants you...but I can't." She rolled over to face him. Stroking his face. Moving her small fingers over his new scar. Pressing her lips to his cheek, as if to heal him.

"I never would have so much as looked at another man if I thought you might be alive. They said your whole battalion had been captured and...that...that there were no survivors."

He flinched. Perhaps there was some truth to what they had told her. She regretted mentioning it.

"I'm still alive," he said. "I'm here. I don't blame you for what you did. There was a time when I thought I'd never see you again." Una's body tensed and he paused. "To be with you, in any way, is more than I hoped for."

She had longed for him with all her soul before she met Gael. And even after, the parts of her heart that weren't consumed by her love for Gael, were stuck in the past, pining for Aidan. Now that he was here, her heart, and her body, were caught between desire for two different men.

She caressed his arm as it held her waist. Her hand barely covered a small portion of his bicep. She traced his arm up to his shoulder before bringing her hand gently to his chest. He was fully clothed, including a buttoned tunic covering his torso, but she could feel his physique underneath and it made her wet despite herself. He was her first love. Though she was satisfied with Gael, she found herself overwhelmed by animalistic attraction in this moment. 

She reached to kiss his lips, softly at first. He pushed back, pinning her to the bed. She opened her mouth, letting his tongue explore the opening between her lips. She gasped, whether out of pleasure or guilt, she wasn't sure.

"I can't," she panted. "I can't," she repeated more to herself than to Aidan.

"Ok," he said. But his body stayed as it was, his hands grasping her wrists, pinning her down to the sheets. His face was close to hers, and she felt his warm breath tickle her lips. He was breathing heavily. She moved her wrists free of his grasp. His scent, his voice, his body. She was overwhelmed with lust to the point where she could barely think about anything else.

"What if...what if we just look at each other?" She hesitated. "Would that...would that be ok?" 

"Whatever you want," he whispered softly, but with obvious desire.

Una was past the point of return. She would feel guilty, she knew, but this was a situation she could never have anticipated, and her lustful body had all but made up her mind for her. She slid out of the bed, sauntering to the window before pulling one of the lace curtains to the side, letting the moonlight shine in. The rain was heavier now, pounding on the window. She heard thunder in the distance, followed a few seconds later by a flash of lightning which illuminated the room. 

Aidan's face was visible now in the dim moonlight. He watched her from the bed, never taking his eyes off of her. She brushed her hair behind her, revealing her delicate collar bone and shoulders. Pressing her chest out, her fingers moved to her corset. Shaking slightly, she began to unlace it. Loosening, then pulling out the strings from each hook. 

Once her corset was loosened enough, she slipped her gown from her shoulders. She reached her hand underneath her bodice, gasping as her fingers caressed her breast. Aidan swallowed hard as he watched her, illuminated in moonlight. She pulled one side of her corset down to reveal her left breast and small pink nipple, hard with arousal. 

Una lifted her finger to her mouth, opening wide to suck it, before returning it to her nipple, circling and enjoying the cool moisture on her sensitive chest. Aidan let out a small moan. He grasped at the sheets, clenching his fists, apparently in an effort to contain his excitement. Una loved the power she felt now. Aidan wouldn't do anything she didn't want, but he would do anything she did want.

"Take off your shirt." She commanded while her hand still gripped her breast.

Aidan reached at his collar, unbuttoning his shirt slowly. His hands were trembling, though he tried not to let her notice. After the final button was undone, he removed the tunic in one swift movement, revealing his muscular chest. Coated with course, dark hair as she remembered, he had gained some new scars from battle, along with a deep black Taurani clan tattoo on the left side of his chest. The new masculine marks excited her. She desperately wanted to pleasure herself.

Pulling apart the corset to undo the last of the threading, she slipped out of it completely, leaving her in only a gown. It was loosely falling from her shoulders, so she delicately slipped it off. The gown was left lying heaped on the floor, no longer filled out by Una's petite, yet womanly figure.

Her body was now nude. She could feel the moonlight shining down on her back as she faced Aidan. She looked down, trying to imagine things from his perspective. Her waist was small. Her breasts were perky and round, and her hips were womanly, perhaps more so than the last time he had seen her; she had filled out, and judging by the look in his eyes, he approved.

"Lift off the covers." She commanded.

Aidan's lower half had remained covered by bedsheets until now. At her command, he pulled away the sheets to expose the rest of his body.

Una eagerly watched. She could make out the line of his sizable hard-on through the fabric of his pants. She felt her mouth wet with saliva, and her face flush.

"Unfasten," she said hurriedly, gesturing at his pelvis. Aidan worked his button open and unzipped, revealing his briefs beneath and making the line of his manhood even more evident.

"Pull it out. Show it to me."

He did as she instructed. Reaching down, he grasped his shaft, pulling down the fabric of his briefs and revealing himself to her. He gasped involuntarily as he touched his member. He stroked it slowly, still looking at her body lustfully. Admiring her breasts and soft, inviting bush as he pleasured himself.

"Stop. Not yet. I want to see it."

Aidan stilled. He moved his hands away from his throbbing cock and placed them at his sides, waiting for her next command. She gave none. Instead, Una approached the bed slowly. She climbed up kneeling next to him. She slid forward, her breasts at his eye level. She felt his hand caress her waist. She grabbed it and placed it at his 

"No 

"Ok," he obeyed, though his voice was 

She looked at his member, admiring it more fully now that she was close enough. Still on her knees, she spread her legs slightly, letting him see a glimpse of her pink slit. He gasped, flinched, and she saw a drop of pre-cum squirt from the tip of his beautiful 

Una grasped both of her breasts in her small hands, squeezing them hard in front of his face. She moved her hands down across her belly to her soft, wet bush. With her left hand, she slowly ran a single finger down the length of her slit. She was wet enough that as she spread her legs, some fluid dripped from her pussy onto the bedsheets, creating a small puddle beneath her. She shivered with pleasure as Aidan watched, sweat forming on his forehead and chest. She moved her finger back up to her clit, softly circling it. She began moaning and gasping audibly, though she bit her lip gently as she tried to silence herself.

"Make as much noise as you want," said Aidan, understanding her 

She moaned louder as she pressed her finger to her clit, rocking back and forth gently. She stopped, spreading her legs in front of her to give Aidan a better view. She used both hands to spread her slit wider, letting Aidan see all of her 

His hand moved from his side, and once again he began stroking his shaft. She watched 

"Is this ok?" He asked, breathily.

"Yes. Use both hands."

Una watched as he used one hand to expertly attend to his shaft. With the other hand he massaged his balls, still keeping his eyes on her slit. As she watched him, she removed her diamond ring, placing it on the table by the bed. She moved her hand back to her pussy and let her now naked ring finger slide into her opening. In and out, slowly, feeling her sensitive muscles tighten with excitement. With her other hand, she continued circling her clit. She inserted another finger inside, moaning loudly now with abandon.

"I need...more," she gasped.

"Do you want me to..."

"No. We mustn't." She replied, breathing hotly, though she knew if he protested she would lose her self control and give in.

"What if...what if I don't touch you," Aidan said, regaining some of his calm tone and even a slight smile.

She paused, thinking for a brief second before nodding. She wasn't sure what he meant, but she was intrigued and hot enough to let him have his way.

"Lie down," he ordered.

Una did as she was told, putting one hand at her side, but letting the other one continue gently touching herself, bringing her to the edge of pleasure, though making sure not to cum.

Aidan grasped something from the table near the bed. She couldn't make out what it was at first, though upon second glass it appeared to be a candle holder. Smooth, glass, and very phallic.

"Close your eyes" He ordered.

She obliged. Letting herself trust him and enjoy the sensation of surprise.

"Spread your legs." He ordered again, but in a softer tone.

She soon felt something cold and smooth glide over her leg. Caressing her calf, then her thigh, getting nearer to her core. She placed both hands at her sides, excited to focus on the sensations Aidan was providing. He brushed the phallus against her inner thigh, moistening it with her fluids. He grazed across her bellybutton then back down, pressing into her slit. She shivered and moaned lightly, licking her top lip. The phallus was now completely coated in her juices. He rubbed it up and down her slit, stroking her clit with each movement. She opened her eyes a moment to see Aidan lustfully eyeing her pussy, while continuing to stroke himself with his free hand.

She closed her eyes again, worried he'd notice her disobeying his instructions. Soon she felt him pressing the phallus into her opening. It was larger than she had realized. He pressed slowly, allowing her muscles to relax as he gently applied pressure to her opening. She felt the smooth phallus enter her—stretching her pussy and filling it completely as it slid deeper into her. An inch at first, then more. Then slowly filling the entire length of her pussy. She gasped loudly. 

"Oh please...please fuck me, Aidan."

Aidan began to slowly slide the phallus in and out of her, then pulled it out and moved it up her slit to press on her now swollen clit. Her moans intensified as she came closer to climaxing. There was little she could do to hold off now. He pressed the object into her once more, this time harder. She felt all the muscles in her body tense as she came. Screaming in pleasure, she felt her pussy squirt, pouring her fluids onto his hand. At the same time, she heard him moan and felt his hot cum begin to drip onto her stomach. She opened her eyes once more to watch him stroke his shaft forcefully as he climaxed, continuing to spurt hot white cum onto her stomach and breasts. As Aidan let go of the phallus inside her, the muscles of her tight cunt slid it out onto the soaking wet sheets. 

Aidan removed his hand from his shaft as well and collapsed on the bed next to her. They lay in silence for a moment before she reached towards him and stroked his chest. Feeling his new scars in the moonlight. She kissed his cheek before falling deeply back into sleep, her naked hands clutching the silver ring at her chest.



Wanderlust 02



Una awoke with the sunlight warmly kissing her face. She had been at the Sun Fortress for two nights now. She was neither a common prisoner, nor was she free to leave. Aidan loved her, this she was certain of, but there were rules of war. One doesn't simply kidnap a warlord's wife then let her go. Aidan assured her that no ranking members of the Osis tribe had been harmed or captured during the raid, and as such Gael was almost certainly unharmed. According to him, the raid was a cautionary measure to discourage the Osis army from invading Taurani land. 

 She hadn't let Aidan share a bed with her since their first intimate encounter. She was overcome with guilt, and also concerned that she would be seduced even further—

 A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.

 "Come in," she replied softly.

 "Good morning." Aidan entered the room, carrying a basket of pastries along with a carafe of juice. 

 "How's my beautiful woman?"

"Don't you mean your hostage?" She chided back.

He paused, eyeing her with a challenging stare before sitting down next to the bed, lowering himself to her level.

"How's my beautiful hostage?" He replied.

"Fine." Una replied poutingly, though she accepted the offering and grabbed what appeared to be a jam-filled danish from the basket. She nibbled slowly at first, tasting it thoughtfully, then nodded approvingly and munched voraciously. 

"Would you like to join me on a ride today?" Aidan offered as he bit a sizable piece off a croissant.

"I'm allowed to leave the castle?" She spit back with angst.

"With me you can go anywhere you want."

She looked at him playfully, pouring herself some juice. 

"I suppose I'll grace you with my presence," she mustered.





Wanderlust



1.

The wind whispered softly through the trees, changing its pitch ever so slightly with each gust. The trees that helped the wind whistle were beach pines, the same that were scattered along the whole Australian coastline. They left their calling card, a long and rounded leaf, all the way out to the start of the sand dunes, where the sand was treeless, and the carpet of sand undulated gently down to the beach.

At one end of the beach, a headland jutted out, a long finger, dotted with trees and large boulders that stretched out a half kilometre to the liquid crystal ocean. To the other direction was 20 kilometres of empty beach, leading up to a small fishing town. 

There was not a soul around.

Along the waters edge, running the whole way to the tip of the finger, were small rockpools, sandy bottomed and as big as a small backyard pool. It was summer, and the pools offered a refreshing change to the sapping heat. 

It was these pools that had attracted a lone occupant today- a brunette who seemed to bask in the rugged landscape, revelling in the privacy of the pools. 

As much as it surprised some people, these places were scarcely visited- it was a long way out from the fishing village, and a decent four wheel drive was needed. The fact that there were better surfing beaches before the fishing village also kept most of the summer crowds away. 

It was for this reason the athletic brunette had decided against wearing a swimsuit- there was little to no chance of any one seeing her.

Not that she wasn't proud of her body- she worked hard to keep all five foot four of it in shape, swimming in the local pool almost everyday back home. But for now, she was taking a hard earned break from the wind and grind of city life. 

She had had enough of the chauvinists that harassed her in the office everyday, the snide remarks and come ons in late night bars, and the prying eyes of the neighbours in her apartment block. 

An interior decorator by trade, and a lot more intelligent than any man would give her credit for, she saw the break as an opportunity to try new things and see the bigger picture- get out and see the world.

Which is why she had come to Spring beach, on the east coast of Queensland, population 400. It had a tight knit community feel that Celia had fallen instantly in love with it- so far removed from the hustle and bustle of Sydney. 

Thanks to a lucrative contract designing for the country's biggest Shopping center developer, Celia could afford the break - after 2 years of non-stop work.

Sitting in the pool, all of these thoughts were so far away that they had ceased to exist. All that remained for the raven-haired Celia was the here and now, with no regrets.

But inevitably, sitting so comfortably in the water, her mind drifted to thoughts about her ex-lover, Alby. 

Alby was a humourous advertising creative director- the brains of one of the southern-hemispheres biggest agencies, and also a creative partner. The hues of the beach reminded her of his sandy hair, always scruffy, but cute in its own way. The most striking thing about Alby had always been his eyes.

They were blue like the clear sky above Celia's head, and staring straight up reminded her of looking into those caring, mysterious eyes. There always seemed to be so much energy bubbling away beneath the surface, and his gaze had always made her blush- the sudden heat like a strike of lightning as the rosy hue spread across her cheeks. 

But Alby was far away for now, working in New York on a new campaign that could make him one of the most sought after advertising creative's in the world. So, Celia and he had split up for a while to make both their departures a little easier on each other. To ease the strain. 

In the cool water she caught herself remembering nights spent with Alby, dining in beautiful restaurants, seeing movies, going to openings, and then sleeping the night in his luxurious large bed. 

Inevitably the two would end up in more than a sleeping embrace, and many midnight hours were filled this way, with Alby lavishing her with his loving touch. 

A gentle wind began to blow, cooler now with the afternoon change, and sending shivers down Celia's shapely back. She felt her arms as they turned from sleek and smooth to goosebumped and sensitive, knowing that her chest would also be feeling the change in temperature. 

She ignored the breeze and kept her eyes shut, returning to her thoughts about Alby. 

His muscular body, a by-product of his riverside house and love of kayaking, flashed in her mind, a brief snapshot of a time when they had been so furious in their lovemaking that she felt as if she were an animal in heat, howling into the night sky.

The recollection brought with it growing arousal, and a longing for his touch. She thought of all the times Alby had languished his attention on her breasts. 

Though she saw nothing abnormal about them (in fact she thought they were average) he treated the handfuls of warm flesh as if they were the most precious things on earth, spending long periods of time licking and tickling them. 

In every case the result was the same, an extremely turned on Celia, who would practically beg to be touched elsewhere. 

She opened her eyes and found her hands had subconsciously slid to her breasts, moving slowly across them, mimicking the way he would touch her.

Her eyes turned to scan the vast shoreline laid out before her, looking for any signs of life. She stared into the afternoon sun overhead, trying to check the cliffs above for anyone watching, knowing there would be none. 

It was too isolated out here. But still, old habits die hard. She turned back to face the ocean and looked at the pool she sat in, happily concluding that there was no one who could see her. 

Satisfied that she was alone, she started to give in to the memories that flooded back about her times with Alby. She felt a twinge of excitement as she remembered the night they almost got caught in an alleyway by a policeman. 

They had been to a dinner celebrating the launch of one of Celia's new designs, and had enjoyed the vintage wine that was supplied in seemingly never ending quanitites- by her obviously very satisfied boss.

Celia couldn't help but stare at Alby's strong body all night, dressed smartly in a suit- such a contrast to her over-weight boss. She had begun to get turned on thinking about his muscular arms around her, on her, stroking her.

They left the restaurant, arm in arm, tripping up now and then, giggling like children from the wine. Celia had checked her phone whilst they walked, finding an sms from Alby. He must have sent it during a trip to the bathroom during the meal. 

Now sitting in the pool, alone and becoming more and more aroused by the second, she remembered the words of the message. 

"I want to feel how wet you are, I want to feel you move like an animal. I want to feel you feel me...'

That had been enough to send Celia over the edge, grabbing his hand and running him down a nearby alleyway. She had kept his hand in hers as they stopped, pulling it towards her already wet panties, holding his fingers to her slippery entrance. 

When she felt him move his fingers, she let go, letting him take charge. He found her most sensitive parts, and, like an artist in action, skilfully worked his magic, bringing muted calls from Celia's throat. 

In the pool, one hand had begun to move down, past her navel, to her pussy, where she started massaging her sensitive and swollen lips. Dipping 1 finger in slowly, Celia felt just how wet she had become. As she moved her finger inside her lips, the water kissed her inner skin, pink and sensitive, sending shivers out across her body as the seawater and her juices mingled- a heady cocktail of tropical desire.

In the alley way Alby had moved a finger further into her, and had started pressing at the sensitive spot a few inches in from her opening. At the same time, he moved his fingers, now wet with her love, gently across her straining bud, then returning to the surrounding areas. 

He began to kneel, guided by Celia's shaking hands on his head kissing his way towards her scented warmth. 

With both hands he took hold of Celia's underwear, a white lacy G-String, and gently pulled it down. She hadn't even had time to step out of them, before her hands replaced his as he inhaled her perfume, strong and sweet in the spring air, and his mouth encircled her sex. 

The warm slippery feeling, mimicked now by the generous tropical water, had felt so good, so real at the time, and now, just as then, she knew one thing. She needed release.

In the alley Alby spent minutes worshipping at Celia's feet, on his knees, his tongue probing, like a finger one minute, the next a broad, soft brush. He built her up to a climax, then shifted his positioning so that he was standing behind her. 

Her hands were pressed hard against the wall, as Alby hiked up her skirt, undid his fly and thrust his strong penis into her. She gasped as he drove it in, at first slow, then gradually built up to full speed. 

She could feel her breasts rubbing against the lacy material of her bra, and, almost instinctively, Alby reached under the back of her shirt and un-clipped the tight fabric. 

Now, her swollen breasts hanging free under her shift, she felt the swinging rhythm of Alby taking charge from behind. She shuddered as he continuously hit her G-spot, crying out softly, involuntarily into the night air everytime he rammed it home extra hard.

With her fingers working sensually now across both her breasts and sex, she moved the hand from her slippery, aching breasts, and imagined Alby's wide penis, as hard as rock, entering her. Her fingers began moving in and out, and Celia shifted her position to allow her fingers better access. 

On the street Alby worked up to full speed, mercilessly pounding Celia's tight and wet sex. He knew she liked it hard and fast, and on this night, she was in her element. The constant precision of his tool, hitting her most intimate and sensual parts, had begun to get the better of Celia as she felt her orgasm approaching. By the grunts he was making, he also seemed very close. 

She exclaimed, through teeth that were clenched.

"Come with me, come in me, I want to feel your hard cock twitch and shoot into my wet pussy."

In her extremely horny state, Celia often reverted to dirty talk, and Alby had always said this was a huge turn on. 

Within a half minute of her speaking, Celia felt her legs begin to shake, more and more, until, like a wave she felt her orgasm roll in, stronger and stronger it came, until her legs felt like they would give way, and she began to feel dizzy. 

At that point her man had begun to come, shooting jets of hot sperm deep into her clenching tunnel. She turned around, with him still buried in her and kissed him slowly on the lips, enjoying the taste and feeling of his tongue.

Just then, with him still in her, she had heard the voice behind them.

"Yeah, I know, but Stef is looking after the kids tonight, and I promised I' d work all day tomorrow as well."

Still in the dark shadows of the alley, they peered across to the source of the sound. 

A policeman was walking along the other side of the narrow path, talking into a mobile phone and staring straight ahead.

They listened to his footfalls fade into the distance.

When the policeman had gone, Celia, in between shallow breaths, said it was the sexiest moment she'd ever had, almost getting caught having sex in public by a policeman.

Alby had got hard whilst the policeman walked away from them, and had slowly started moving his penis in and out of Celia's still wet hole, lightly fingering her clitoris. 

She felt herself shudder again as another orgasm took hold.

Now in the rock pool, in the middle of nowhere, Celia was fucking herself. One leg thrown on the lip of the pool, the other resting on the bottom, she was thrusting 3 fingers in and out, at a rate so fast they seemed to blur. 

Another hand was still alternating between breast and clitoris. 

Either way, what Celia was doing was working, and as she opened her eyes again, she imagined Alby's strong cock pounding her pussy, fucking her as hard as he could. She imagined his strong pecs, his smooth and toned ass, and his muscular arms, and his cock. 

She felt her orgasm build, higher and more intense than any she had felt ever before. It rose and rose, and her leg, still propped on the lip, began to shake uncontrollably. 

Sighs began to escape her lips, coming from a part of her she hadn't heard in so long. They turned into high, pleading, needy peals, echoing across the rocks and the water. 

She groaned, an animalistic groan, as she felt the wave break, crashing through her body, racking her body with spasms that sent large ripples across the pool she stood in. 

She felt the juices soak her fingers. Her juices. They dripped down her legs and she felt the overwhelming urge to scream in pleasure. 

She stood there, still quivering, imagining Alby, and feeling the orgasm recede slowly, for a minute, luxuriating in the afterglow. 

She decided then and there, that the tropical outdoors and a willing lover, would be the ultimate fantasy to fulfill. 

And so, on that hot summer day, Celia began the hunt for her willing lover.

2.

Celia wandered along the rocky coastline to where a small path ran up to the cliff top. She arrived there just in time to see an old white land rover making its way along the loose gravel that ran out to the edge of the cliffs. 

Through the faint cloud of dust she heard the sound of a door squeak open as the chatter of the radio and engine died.

A pair of tanned legs became visible in the settling dust, leading up to a well built chest and a strong neck. The parts were clothed in worn khaki, making him look like an explorer, Celia thought. On top of it all was a stubbly, strong jaw, a set of smouldering dark eyes and a crop of scruffy brown hair. 

"Gday Celia, how was the water?" Jackson asked, his voice carrying easily over the 20 or so metres between his car and Celia.

Startled, Celia stuttered "Did you see me?" then paused for a second, looking at the towel around her trim frame and feeling the water dripping from her hair.

Recovering, she said that the swim had been refreshing, if a little lonely, and that it was a beautiful day to be out and about in sunny Springbeach. She gave him a sly, slightly suggestive smile, inviting, or even daring Jackson to bite.

He never did.

In the three or so weeks since she had been in town, Jackson had been the most elusive of the people she had met. They had bumped into each other after she had hopped off the bus and was taking shelter from the summer heat in a cool bar, near the main street. 

He had seemed friendly and curious, but there was always something bubbling under those sultry eyes that left a lot to the imagination.

"I thought I might find you up here- I just wanted to tell you- there's supposed to be a big storm blowing in- though you wouldn't believe it now would you?" Jackson quizzed sardonically, pointing at the blue sky lit up above them.

"Well knowing Australian summers, who can ever be sure?" Celia questioned back. 

It was true though, the boiling hot temperatures combined with the humidity of the coast created a volatile weather cocktail that could be ignited within a few short hours, given the right conditions. 

It seemed today would be one of those days.

Having walked to the point, Celia answered that she was just about to start walking home anyway, but thanked him for taking the time to tell her about the forecast. It wasn't like he had come just to see her- out here, such a dramatic meteorological change over such a short time could be disastrous for anyone in the water. 

As soon as she began wondering how he knew she was even out here, she realised straight away- Eve from the Post Office would have told Jackson- she was always angling for a way to get the two together, though Jackson always seemed distant when they were.  

"Do you want a lift then city girl, or are you trying to get fitter than you already are?" Jackson's smart banter caught Celia off-guard- he'd never been so flirtatious.

"I suppose a lift won't hurt," she answered, "as long as it's not out of your way that is."

He just smiled and opened the passenger side door.

3. 

The pot-hole bit into the tire, chewing up the rubber like wet paper. Jackson felt the truck veer to the right, and fought to control the slide in the loose gravel. 

4.

The sound of the radiator cracking, and the leaking of engine fluid onto the rock beneath the car came just after the large tree trunk raced into their vision at the front of the truck.

5. 

The rain caught them off guard. 

As they walked into town, the telltale crack of thunder overhead was the cue for the torrential downpour to begin. Still too far away from either of their places for shelter, a quick decision was needed. 

In the process of running the 200 metres down the street, both went from dry and hot to soaked to the bone, feeling their clothes stick to their skin as the warm deluge pounded down. Their skin glistened and feet slapped as the running continued. 

Pausing for a breath, Celia looked at the heaving chest of the man next to her, wondering what their next move would be.

At that very moment, Jackson grabbed Celia's hand firmly and led her off the street and into the surf life saving club. 

Jackson grinned, fished in his pocket and pulled out a key.

Celia looked up at him questioningly. 

He just grinned his cheeky grin and said "Been a lifesaver for 13 years now- they give you a key after that much time...as long as you don't cause too much trouble that they find out about" and with another mischievous grin, slipped the key in the lock and opened the door.

Inside he led her down the hallway and started talking. 

"You'll need to get those wet clothes off and get under a shower- if you stay in them too long you you'll get a cold, and we can't have Celia getting sick can we?" he gave her a wink.

He continued on "The showers are just down the hall, second door on your left."

He handed her a towel from a cupboard and she walked down, and opened the door. 

Celia walked into a huge shower area- with about 14 different shower nozzles aiming out into the tiles. 

There were no stalls, just a large open area. She guessed it was the female room she was in. 

Remembering her man mission, she started seriously thinking about Jackson. The way he looked at her made her tingle, his dark eyes felt like they warmed her just by looking in her direction. His strong chest, always straining beneath his torn shirt made her think of Alby, and his powerful nature. The thoughts were once again circling back to the touch of flesh on flesh, making her mind wander.

Somewhere nearby, she heard a shower switch on. She opened her eyes, terrified she would find Jackson standing in the same room showering, staring at her naked body under the pulsing jets. 

She found the room empty, and a part of her was disappointed. 

She would've secretly loved to open her eyes and see him there in all his rugged glory, hard and firm and lustful. 

She wanted to find him now, as these thoughts multiplied, running circles around her brain until all she felt was a wave of desire growing stronger by the second. 

She decided that she would make a move towards her goal, and that Jackson was as good an option as any. 

Still naked and glistening from the warm shower, she walked into the hallway, feeling the cool tiles kiss her underfoot and shivering involuntarily. 

She guessed where he would be.

Sure enough, behind the first doorway she had walked past on the way to her shower, she heard the rumble of jets hitting the floor, and hopefully Jackson.




Wanderlust



She didn't knock, and the door offered no resistance when she turned the handle and pushed. 

She walked into a room of steam, and standing with his back to her, in the middle of 4 jets aimed into the centre, was Jackson. 

He had his back to her, and the crashing of the water obscured any sound as she slid the door shut and tip toed out to behind his toned frame.

Hesitantly, she reached her arms out and encircled his chest, pulling him so that her breasts were against his back. She felt him tense all over in surprise, and the feeling of that power rippling through his body made Celia even more turned on than before.

All he could exclaim before Celia had spun him around was a surprised "Wha.."

When she had turned him to face her, suddenly a look of understanding and excitement ran across his face. He changed suddenly. 

Gone was the mischievous and cheeky Jackson, arrived was the lustful, passionate and confident Jackson. He grew hard in an instant, and within seconds was licking and kissing his way all along Celia's wet neck and chest. He centred on her ears for a second or two, sending shivers along Celia's shapely spine. 

Then it was as if something had snapped. Jackson grabbed her forcefully, and moved her over to a wall where he aimed a school of jets. He pushed Celia into the wall, her hands flat against the slippery tiles, bathed in a shower of warm water as it sprayed from the nozzles. She took the initiative and spread her lips, feeling the warm, wetness engulf her fingers. Soon she felt a fingers grazed by a solid, throbbing piece of Jackson, forcing its way into her waiting tunnel. 

She gasped as all 8 inches of him sank in, savouring the delicious feeling as she welcomed him. Then, like a piston, he started moving his hips, grinding in and out, gradually building up to a speed where all that existed was the assault on her waiting hole. 

She lost control of her speech, and all that came out instead was guttural groans. This was all the encouragement Jackson needed. 

In one smooth motion he spun Celia round, pulled her to the floor and started licking Celia's straining clitoris, almost invisible amongst the steam of the room. 

One thing that wasn't invisible was the feeling of Jackson's skilled tongue expertly licking every area of Celia's smooth vagina. He licked and sucked at her beautiful lips, paying attention to the sensitive area where they met the tanned inner thigh. 

Celia needed something in her, anything, as she was starting to feel empty without Jackson's 8 inches filling her. She reached down and stuck a finger through her outer lips, moaning as she felt the warm slippery wetness of her pussy engulf her finger. 

She instantly added another in, feeling herself twitch in pleasure.

Jackson, stroking his cock gently as he licked, turned and positioned himself over Celia's lovebox, and found his penis was conveniently sticking out about Celia's face. He felt the wet warmth of her mouth suddenly grab his penis, surprising him so much that he forgot what he was doing to Celia- it was so good he closed his eyes and just rested his face in her pussy. 

When he got over the initial shock of the feeling, Jackson began eating out Celia again, but this time he was like a man possessed. Licking around her still moving fingers, buried to the hilt in the wet flesh, he kissed his way around the area, and then began sucking gently on the lips, taking both into his mouth and pulling softly with his mouth, rubbing the sensitive area inside against the slippery inner lips and his darting tongue.

It was at this time that he felt Celia moaning from all his oral treatment. He felt it mainly because as she moaned, the vibrations caused an intense shudder to race up and down his spine. Shivering in ecstasy, he began to lose control, just as Celia began to let go. 

He could feel the muscles of her abdomen and ass clenching and unclenching as she got as deep as she could in the throes of a mindblowing orgasm. His face soaked with both celia's juices and the warm water, Jackson felt himself ride the wave of the orgasm, shaking like an earthquake as he emptied out a huge warm load of cum into her waiting mouth. 

She was still moaning as he continued to pump her face, sending off another chain of sensations, keeping him hard as she swallowed around his cock. He felt the warmth of her tongue lick around everywhere on the shaft, cleaning it. 

They disentangled and found themselves facing each other, kneeling on the floor, the steaming water still cascading around them like warm summer rain. She looked so sexy at that moment- so unbelievably natural and innocent, but at the same time the most desireable creature in the world. They met in the middle with a deep kiss, each savouring the taste of their mingled juices.

Jackson reached forward, and began stroking down Celia's body, tracing the contours of her breasts, slowly slipping circles around them until the circles narrowed and his fingers were teasing her nipples, springing them to attention. He leant over, slowly, and she felt his warm breath touch her wet neck. She closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable contact of tongue and skin. 

All she got was the continued trail of warm air, working its way all over her neck, upto her ears, behind them and then around to the front again. Just as she felt the warm air pass her ear, Jackson planted his lips softly on the entrance to her ears and sucked in, sending a charge of cool air onto the sensitive skin, causing a shockwave of shivers to be sent out through Celia's body. 

She whimpered in pleasure, squirming a little at the intense feeling Jackson had brought.

He again made his way down to her amazing breast's, licking and sucking until he was at her nipples. He grasped them softly in his teeth, and gently pulled backwards, hearing Celia gasp as the feeling grew. She moved a hand down to her pussy, which was spread open wide above the ground as her legs were splayed. The hand slowly moved around the mound, rubbing softly. Then she stuck a finger between the open lips, and the sound of her finger in a very, very wet place was music to both their ears. 

Jackson smiled at the sound, feeling himself grow harder than a steel rod. He secretly loved touching himself in front of women, and Celia was no exception- if anything she made him want to do it more. 

He pulled his head away from her breasts, and their mouths met again, each's tongue exploring the others as they both sat there, fondling themselves gently. He sat back, and watched as Celia watched him pull his cock. Each seemed to be lost in an animal lust- a zone where nothing mattered except the other person and the feelings they gave. She moved slightly, and then began crawling towards him, pushing him softly back to the ground, and hopping on top. 

The amount of water around them was allowing a lot movement, and the two slid slightly as they got into position.

Celia had never felt so warm and turned on and sexy before, and couldn't get over the change she felt as she now reached down and grabbed hold of Jackson's steel cock, shivering at the thought of it exploding warm sperm all over her. She put it in, and as it passed the tight, wet entrance, they both stopped- savouring that first moment of penetration, wanting it to stay forever. 

She felt his cock slip further in, until her lips were resting on the small bush of pubic hair at the base of his cock. She sighed contentedly and began moving her hips, back and forth, and up and down. It was pure pleasure, slow and languid and amazing for both as they pleasured each other.

After 10 minutes of sensual sex, Jackson felt himself building up again, and took the initiative. He sat up and placed Celia, back flat on the ground and lifted her legs right back behind her head. She moaned and grabbed them, pulling them wide and high. He began pounding her tight hole again, going so deep and hard that Celia lost control and began screaming at the top of her lungs, echoing through the steaming shower room. They both began feeling another orgasm approaching, and Celia, gently rubbing her clit, began to shudder. 

Jackson went harder, bottoming his hard shaft out on every stroke then slamming it back in. It felt like they were in a swirling room where the only thing certain was the feeling of pleasure that grew with each thrust. Celia moaned loudly and screamed that she was coming, and Jackson felt her pussy tighten its grip around his shaft even more, followed by Celia arching her back up suddenly, as her body convulsed under her as she came with an orgasm of epic proportions. 

After watching the nymph explode like that, Jackson was only a few seconds behind her. He pulled his slick and shiny dick out of her pink tunnel and a millisecond later he was pumping his hand up and down his cock as it shot out load after load of warm slick cum. He was that turned on he shot all over her belly, her face and her neck, never before had he come so hard. 

As the wave of the orgasms receded, the two felt the tiredness of all the exercise envelope them, and soon they were lying comfortably next to each other as the showers continued to rain down on their gorgeous, though spent, bodies.

They came to a few minutes later, showered (properly this time) and dried off, then decided that sleep was in order. 

Later that night, Celia found herself in the strong arms of a dream lover, drifting happily off to sleep in a comfortable bed. She couldn't wait for what tomorrow would bring.



Wanderlust



I know I had some problems with tense. I hope it doesn't ruin the story for you but this is the kind of critique I am hoping for. Enjoy. Encourage me to write more 



Walking backwards through the party I bumped into her, she was absolutely stunning, instead of frowning she was smiling, she had beautiful blue eyes and without taking my eyes away I was dying to look down at her little dress and see her legs and heels. She held my arm steadying herself and as I instantly apologized. She said I was very bad and could make it up to her by giving her one of the drinks I was carrying. She looked back as she walked away, my wife's drink in her hand, and smiled but I was looking at her long legs under her sexy black mini-dress because she was wearing glossy nude tights. She gave me a kinky little kick of a heel as she noticed my eyes. I felt a buzz in my pants as my eyes returned to her smile. I wanted to pull her long blonde locks away from her neck and kiss it, devour her head to toe. Wow! My wife had arrived and noticed I was dumbstruck. 

'Where's my drink?' 

'I, Oh, I knocked that girl and she asked for it.' 

I looked across the room to the hot mystery woman now surrounded now by men vying for her attention. The way she flicked her hair and included them all in her gaze was intoxicating. She glanced over and winked at us raising her drink. I blushed but my wife was fuming, 

'You're an asshole, you know that Peter?' I tried to apologise. 

'Get me a drink' she said as she stormed off. 

We sat at a table alone in the steamy atmosphere. I was still trying to explain, 

'Honey, you look so wonderful.' 

'I made the effort tonight.' She moaned. 

'I know you did.' I knew couldn't win, she was so angry. 

She did look stunning. She wasn't as tall and slender as the blonde woman but her face was just as beautiful, her dark eyes, her hair tied up on her head, and when she dressed up she could be so sexy. Her dress tonight was a Spanish import. A tiered skirt, higher on one side, a halter neck and arm ruffles. It was deep red and black. When we had arrived at the hotel party people had commented and called her Senorita. It was made for dancing and it showed enough of one leg to drive me crazy. She had fantastic legs. I caressed her knee under the table trying to show my appreciation that she had, reluctantly at first, worn the lingerie I had picked out for her birthday. At first she called me an Indian giver, a gift more for myself, but when I saw her from the bathroom tonight, her curvaceous reflection in the mirror, squeezing into the Wonderbra in black nylon stockings with red heels, seams and tips with lacy garter and panties I wanted to stay in and not go down to the party. 

'That girl is probably a hired hooker. I mean, come on!' I tried to reason with her, digging myself deeper. 

'Well you made me look like a fool', she said pushing my hand away. She looked away in disgust and took a sip of white wine. Suddenly the girl appeared at our table side. 

'Hi there,' she beamed, 'I'm Cherise'. She put her hand out and I shook it limply. 

'Peter, and this is my wife Angela.' 

'Hello Angela', she said in her deepest warm accent, nice to meet you. 

'Nice to meet you too Cherise,' my wife said and got up and walked away. 

Cherise looked at me in despair. 'Don't worry, we had a fight. She's angry with me.' My eyes lost my wife as she disappeared across the room. 

'Awww, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have come.' She looked mortified, and very cute at the same time. 

'No it's not your fault. Don't worry.' Her arm was on my arm. She gave me a reassured look of OK? Yes, I was. 

'I better go after her.' 

'Ok, try to have a good time honey.' And she moved a little closer, 'and if things don't work out you can come and find me.' Her tone had changed her mouth was almost pouting, she was electricity, my eyes moved down her body, her low cut dress revealing cleavage, her hand resting on the top just below her collar bone twirled her blonde ringlets to those legs, as shiny and glossy as her lips, perfect right down to her shiny black stilettos. She was perfection and I took a photograph in my mind. 

'Thank you,' I said a little dazed I walked away leaving her stood there. 

I could have gone with Cherise there and then and not thought twice, but I did. Now I couldn't see my wife anywhere. I tried the bar. I was so angry with her now for leaving me. Cherise had been so nice to her. When I went out to the balcony Angela was there with a man, leaning out over the edge side by side. He was pointing out in the distance and she was looking at him as if the sun shone out of his... I stopped a moment to admire her from behind, her black dress with red frills around the hem and the low back. Her silky black hair tied up high on her head. Her shapely legs looked so sexy in black stockings with the red seam running up the back. She stood on her toes to see further and the red Cuban heel of the nylon could be seen as her foot lifted out of the black high heeled pumps. She was definitely a world apart. 

'Hi', as I approached them. 

'Hey' she turned, instantly dropping her smile. 'Carlos, this is my husband.' 

'Ah yes, Peter. Hello.' They had been talking about me. 

My wife looked angry and a little schozzled. She was drinking champagne now. I saw Carlos' glass on the balcony untouched. 

'I was just showing Angela the point where a huge star landed in Terana in..ummm...1979.' I looked at Angela she was looking up at him with admiration and a tiny smile. She held her glass close to her bosom and did not look at me. Carlos' necktie was loose. He was tall, dark and handsome, definitely Italian. He probably fancied my wife. I knew she would fancy him. Who wouldn't? I wanted to leave the party and Angela was drunk I could tell. 

'I think the time has come to leave now. It's been a long day.' She shot me a look and a frown. 

'Yes?' said Carlos. 'Are you staying here?' he asked. 

'Yes, we are, on the beach side.' I smiled. 

'I'm not tired' my wife whispered at me almost through her teeth with a deep frown. How could she be so nice yet so angry with me? 

'Excuse us, Carlos' she said ever so politely, resting a hand on his arm. 

'Of course,' he smiled at us both and walked away. 

'I'm not ready to go yet, where are your friends?' My friends? 

'What do mean, what friends? I'm here with you.' 

'Then stay.' She snapped. 'No, I want to go and I think you should come with me, you've drunk enough.' I reached for her arm but she pulled away like a child. 

'OK,' I was angry with her now. 'I'm going.' 

'Where are you going?' 

'I don't know.' And then I thought of the small bar on the waterfront. 'Luigi's for a few drinks.'

'Fine do that.' 

'Fine, I will.' I walked away without looking back. I felt terribly sad. I hated to argue with my wife. 

On my way through the bar I half-looked for Cherise in passing but she was nowhere to be seen. What would I have done? I may have asked her for a drink with me at Luigi's. 

As I passed through the lobby the urge to drink more left me. Going to Luigi's would just be a bad idea. 

I headed straight to the elevator deciding instead to go to the room and wait for my wife, she had a key. I went straight into the bathroom and kicked off my shoes. I hung my jacket on the back of the door and looked at myself in the mirror. I thought about Cherise, her long legs so perfectly shaped. I imagined them in my hands, my lips moving over ankles up her stockings, she was wearing stockings in my fantasy. I was licking her calves and caressing the muscles through the nylon. She was moaning, I imagined the sounds she would make. I was masturbating in front of the mirror, my pants dropped to my ankles. I closed my eyes and saw Cherise's hands running through her hair, her legs parting for me and my kisses finding their way to the tips of her stockings, her foot planted in my crotch, the toe of her shiny stiletto rubbing me. I was beginning to climax at the thought of licking her pussy through fine lace panties when the room door clicked open and I froze in horror, looked quickly to the bathroom door. I had locked it but I was still terrified.

'Peter?' It was Angela. I held my breath, I didn't answer. My heart was beating and I froze with my cock in my hand. 

'He's not here.' I heard my wife say. 

A mans voice said 'Why are the lights on?' It was Carlos. 

'He must have been here.' Then there was silence.

I moved to the door slowly, picking up my pants, careful not to make a sound. What the...? I listened then a bang against the door. It was the sound of moans and kissing. It was Carlos I knew it. The bitch! My cock had gone limp in my hand. I thought to burst through the door and say something like, 'What the hell is this?' but I held back. Let's see what happens. 

Angela was groaning on the other side of the door. I could imagine his hands and mouth over her body. 

'Mmmm, oh.' She moaned. 

'What if he comes back?' whispered Carlos. 

'He won't, Ssh, he'll be gone for hours.' 

'That's good.' I heard him say, 'because I want to...no, I need to, have you Angela.' The way he said my wife's name made me so angry in the pit of my stomach. I listened as they moved to the bed and the sound of bodies hitting the mattress. 

Very slowly I turned the handle and opened the door, flicking off the switch to kill the bathroom light. It opened just enough to let me see the mirror across the room which reflected the bed. Her dress was already gone. He was pinning her down on top of the silk sheet kissing her neckline to her breasts, popping out of her bra. 

'Do you want me to eat your pussy?' he asked my wife. 

'Yes, I want you eating my pussy now.' She replied instantly. 

'So sexy, Angela.' I could see the grin across her face as he gripped her by the tips of her stockings pulling them higher, stretching the black nylon further up her thighs until they tore and laddered. 

'Oops' he said, smiling. She just laughed sordidly and kissed him again, wrapping her legs around him, locking her heels together. They embraced like this for a while, kissing romantically before she rolled him onto his back straddling him. She tore open his shirt, my wife giggling at the audible pop of buttons. 

She stepped off the bed to remove his trousers and slid down her own panties at the same time, kicking them off her heel where they fell just outside the bathroom door. I reached down silently and picked them up stretching my arm through the tiny crack in the door. 

She crawled onto him, lifting her leg over his as he lay flat on the sheets. She began to suck on him and lick his huge cock from the base to the tip. He groaned deeply. I knew just how good she was at blowjobs. The way she moaned with pleasure as her tongue seemed to double in size and the way she looked at you while she did it. She was the ultimate blowjob slut and I couldn't be more jealous. He groaned loudly and held her head. In the mirror I could see her other hand was reaching behind her but not massaging her pussy. No, she was rubbing her anus, circling her tiny hole. Her hand disappeared and I guessed she was licking her fingers before it reappeared and began to finger her own anus as she sucked him. Oh my God! I thought I couldn't believe it. I almost came right there. I lifted the tiny black lace panties to my nose. They were wet at the crotch and smelled like perfume. I touched it with my tongue and it tasted like her pussy. I placed the full crotch part into my mouth and sucked hard, absorbing her sex juices that were not intended for nor brought on by me. Watching her bob and weave her head as he groaned on the bed, gripping the sheets, it reminded of the way we used to be, and the way she used to be with me and as I watched her finger fuck her own ass I had never seen her or known her do that before. My wife groaned almost as much as Carlos did, his huge cock filled her mouth. She was wet and wild and I could taste it in my mouth. I was masturbating as quietly and furiously as possible. 

He reached down and took her by the head lifting her towards his waiting kiss. Holding her he sank his tongue deep into her cock mouth, gouging out every bit of desire she had put into him with her monster blowjob. It was his turn to pin her to the bed and he lay her down gently and lowered his head between her legs, stopping to kiss the frayed tips of stocking that showed bits of flesh now, her heels dug into the silky bed sheets. 

She was fingering a hole in her stocking as his tongue plowed deep into her causing her gasp his name out. 

'Ooohhfff Carlos,' she growled. 'Yes!!' 

My wife had pulled down her bra and was massaging her breasts, pulling on her nipples. Carlos looked across to the chair and grabbed a scarf which he then tied round her ankles before hoisting them high. Her two stocking legs in high heels pointed to the ceiling Carlos held them there with a very strong arm as he kissed from her ankles right down her seams before resuming her pussy licking. She was writhing against his mouth and her hands squeezed the taught muscles in his bicep. When he eventually stopped she must have cum against his mouth because she continued to buckle and pant. 

'More. More. More!' She moaned achingly, motioning to her travel bag on the floor and for Carlos to fetch it. 

'In there', she pointed. 

'Yes baby.' He went to the bag. I watched his huge erect penis swaying as he walked. He opened the bag and pulled out a pair of handcuffs, then a blindfold and a whip. Where did she get them? Did she bring them for us or had she planned this all along? I was furious but I wanted to see, I couldn't look away and I daren't make a sound in case they stopped and discovered me. I was so wet I was massaging the head of my penis eyes fixed on her, legs spread now, her finger beckoning the mystery Italian stranger. 

'Oh you're a naughty girl!' Carlos said seriously. 'Do you want me to spank you?' He asked, moving closer. 

My wife hopped onto her knees pressing her breast together as she leaned toward him, nodding her head obediently. 

'You've been a bad girl Angela.' She made a fake sad face and nodded. 

I had never seen her act like this. She was so childlike but sexy. Like a naughty school girl with a crush on her teacher. 

'OK, turn around,' said Carlos encouragingly, 'and put your hands on the headboard.' He mounted from behind kissing her neck as she knelt on all fours, placing her hands on the wrought iron headboard. While he handcuffed her to the vertical iron bars on the headboard he slapped his cock against her ass making my wife moan and whine. 

'Shush bad girl' he whispered, lifting the blindfold over her eyes, letting the elastic rest against the back of her head. He held her chin, turning her head and French kissing her roughly, he spanked her once hard on the ass and the kiss muffled her cry. 

Carlos moved off the bed and stood next to it, whip unraveled, and he waited. When she realized there was silence she smiled and purred like a cat, her knees together she wiggled her ass invitingly. I noticed one of her garter straps had come off her stocking and a long ladder had appeared. I thought of her earlier, sat innocently on the bed, attaching the garter and how much I wanted to throw myself into her as she wore them now in our bed. I knew now she wasn't thinking of me. The room smelled of sweat, sex and perfume. All of sudden he cracked the whip across her ass and her devious smile vanished. My wife yelped and frowned in pain. Carlos was silent. After a moment she raised her head, frowning. 

'Mmmm', she groaned with pleasure. 

'Are you sorry?' asked Carlos. She instantly shook her head, the devious smile returned. Crack! Again he struck her. Her head disappeared between her arms. Her scream more muffled this time. She let out a louder moan however. 

'Ohh yes!' She looked toward him blindfolded, biting her bottom lip. 'Give it to me.' 

I nearly called out in shock. Angela! My Angela! What has gotten into you? I considered Carlos had drugged her but the handcuffs and whip had come from her bag. She rubbed her legs together trying to stimulate her clitoris. My eyes were transfixed on her stockings, tracing the seams down to her pumps that were barely on her feet now. I admired the red heels of her stockings that I had picked out for her, not once thinking I would not have this pleasure but a stranger she had met at a party. 

Carlos could not take it any longer he climbed onto the bed and thrust hard into her pussy without further warning. She gasped the loudest yet as he sank his huge penis deep inside her gaping wet pussy. I watched his glistening skin in the lamp light. His dark, slender and muscular body, his hands on her ass, his fingers hooked under her garter, stretching and spreading her cheeks wider. He fucked her hard and fast as though he had waited for weeks, as I had, to sink himself into her. I had hoped tonight would be the night we would rekindle our romance and passion. Instead I had her panties wrapped around my dripping cock, soaking them in my precum. It was all I had of her to hold but it felt romantic and passionate. She was holding the bedrail, the handcuffs rattled against the iron. She was so loud, she moaned with each thrust. Her head and shoulders were thrown back. Blindfolded, her head moved about, searching for her lover. She cried out 'Yess! Ooooh yess!' A long drawn out 'Yes' was perforated by quickening thrusts into her vagina that upset her breathing and made her pant Ss's. 

The sweat on Carlos' back visibly dripped down his dark muscular body, his hands only leaving her ass to caress her silky thighs or pull on her hair or neck. 

He bent over her until his face was next to hers, cheek to cheek. He whispered in her ear, nibbling her lobe. Then he slowly pulled out of her, and came off his knees onto his feet to lower himself into her anus from above. She hooked her feet, one over the other, and groaned with what seemed to be more pain than pleasure as his giant cock slowly penetrated her asshole from above. 

Carefully dipping and then retracting a little further in each time until he was almost halfway inside. He pulled her blindfold off now, exposing her eyes, wide and wild. Not small and seductive as they had been. She was experiencing this for the first time and it was hard to tell if she was enjoying it. She breathed loud and heavy. 

Grunting, Carlos' pace quickened until he was fucking her as hard as he could. Her squeals became louder and higher until she sounded like a bitch, yelping and biting her lip hard. I wanted to rush out there and hold her as I had so many times before. And as her whimpers became louder and louder, her whole body shuddered and Carlos' macho figure became more taught and animal, caring less and less for her cries, urging and forcing the orgasm.

Knowing my wife could not escape nor resist this beast buried selfishly in her bursting anus made me even hornier. She looked like a common whore, abused and mistreated. Her make up was almost perfect except for a smudge of lipstick across from her mouth. Her cheeks were red rosy. Her hair held steady on her head rocking except for one strand that fell down her face. Carlos' hand grasped just above her waist pushing her down against the force of his thrusts, her knees buried deep in the mattress the ruffled bed sheets. He began to slow, his moans became louder and he drew out from her now gaping asshole, taking his giant shiny wet cock in his hand. 

He moved to her face and she turned to look at him gasping from the withdrawal and he began to cum violently, shooting thick watery sperm across her pretty face, closing her eyes as he grunts and spurts. I was surprised how much and how long he came for. What missed my wife flew across the room. He sprayed her shoulder and neck and the final drips he let fall over her back. 




Wanderlust



When he was spent Carlos took his sticky end and rubbed it around her ass, before wiping it clean on the back of Angela's stocking before stepping off the bed and collecting his drink from the table. 

I panicked realizing he may come in now and I see my wife collapse face down on the bed as I silently pull the door over and flick the latch. 

Outside Carlos' says something I cannot make out and I hear him approach the bathroom. I wait for the door handle to budge but he goes straight out of the room closing the door behind him, silence.

I waited pensively not knowing what to do. I fastened my pants, leaving the soaking wet panties on the side and open the latch. Peering through the crack from the door, I see my wife lying still on the bed. Opening further and I crept out, flicking the room door and opening then closing it. 'Honey?' I called softly and entered for the first time. 

Moving to her side I looked at her in the lamp light. The red marks across her ass down to her ripped stockings. The furry handcuffs still fastened to the headboard. She was still, almost dead but for the heavy breathing. The sweat glistened on her back mixed with the semen. I reached to unclip the handcuffs and she moved slightly, murmuring from a dream. I leaned closer to hear. 

The strand of hair I lift from her face was sticky with Carlos' sperm. She looked so peaceful but she smelt like cum and sweat mixed with perfume. 

'Lay with me', she whispered in a hoarse sexy voice without opening her eyes. I climbed onto the bed and lay next to her, stroking her hair softly. It's sticky, her face was a mess. Her head rests on her arm attached to the bed post. I reached up and opened the cuffs and lay them on the pillow. 

'I'm sorry baby,' she whispered. 

'Ssh', it's OK, I say as I began to remove her shoes. 

'I'm dirty,' she whispered as I drop one shoe to the floor. 'Will you clean me?' she whispered as if she was asking me to run her a bath. I froze with the second pump in my hand. I looked at the sticky stain on the back of her calf and further up her body. 

'Yes baby, of course.' I replied willingly, dropping the shoe to the floor. 

'Mmm', she groaned in approval, smiling like a little girl. 

I held her calf; squeeze my hand around the stain, it felt so soft, the silky stocking in my hand. I massaged it softly as I lowered my face to meet it. 

Using my tongue I generated as much saliva as possible and soaking the stocking I sucked the salty sperm stain out of the nylon. My hand ran further up her leg as I sucked on her leg, my tongue pressed against the seam, lifting off to see a larger stain now. I moved to lay with her again. 'Mmm,' thank you she says from her peaceful slumber. I move closer to her beautiful face, she always looks so beautiful sleeping. I stroked he hairline but she had massive globs of cum strewn across her face. I scooped one off with my fingers and with nowhere to wipe I plopped it in my mouth and suck my fingers clean, Carlos' salty residue sat sticky in my mouth as I swallowed most down. 

I moved to her face and began to gently and carefully lick the blobs of sperm from her cheek, from her lips to her ear, neatly suckling the last one from her eyebrow. 

She moaned softly her approval. 'Mmmm, thank you Peter, I'm so sorry Baby,' she repeats in a whisper. 

I press myself against her sleepy body, 'Ssh Angela.' I say and trace my hand down her back where I find even more cum. 

I worked my way down her back, kissing and sucking and cleaning my wife's golden skin with my mouth. I was having trouble swallowing all the sperm, the salty taste lingered in my mouth and throat, I needed a drink.

I had never tasted another man's sperm before. I knelt at the base of her spine admiring her ass. I moved my fingers over the red whip lines that looked sore and the large hand print. She had been marked by Carlos in many ways. Her crack was sticky and white. I lowered my head and ran my tongue upward through it, tasting the moistness between ass and cum. The heat and the ease with which my tongue opened her hole were surprising. I let my hands wander to her stocking tops and garter and began to eat her ass out for what seems a long time, continuing long after I have removed the semen and saliva. Her moans were quiet and muffled. I made sure her rim was covered in only my saliva. I was marking my territory. I was making my own love to her. I barely even brushed her pussy when I came up. I was so horny. I wondered how I smelled now. I could feel the wetness inside my pants.

I lay back on the bed and closed my eyes. She reached out with a hand and I pulled her close to me. Her head resting on my chest, one leg draped over me, her breast pressed against me. She was a slut. She had been so bad. She had cheated on her husband and what was worse I had seen her, caught her in the act. But however much I loved her as she slept in my arms I knew it wouldn't be the last time.



Wanderlust Pt. 01



Prologue: Back Then

Back then, she would drive five hours wearing no panties to see me.

We seldom made it as far as the stairs, much less all the way to my room. I would give her a hug and a deep kiss hello, and the smell of her would get me hard. It was a combination of fresh lipstick, a breath mint to cover the cigarette she'd smoked to stay awake for the drive, and the faint scent of dripping anticipation. We would stumble across the living room, pulling my pants off as we went so that as soon as we got to the couch she could slam her hips down over my cock. We always came very quickly the first time. The waiting was our foreplay.

After a few moments of me resting inside her, our hearts pounding against each other, she would reapply her lipstick and kneel down to clean off my cock. If my roommates weren't expected home for a bit, I'd pour some scotch and we'd talk about her drive and everything that had happened in the two weeks since she'd last been down.

After our second glass she would kiss my neck and I would unbutton her shirt, and I'd grab her ass and squeeze it hard to see how she was feeling. She'd whisper something in my ear, like "harder" or "please," and I would bend her over the bench next to our kitchen table and slide her skirt up, caressing her soft skin then holding my hand high above her ass until she began to wonder whether I actually going to spank her. The pain of the first one would always catch her off guard, and what began as a squeal of pain would finish as a gasp of pleasure. I'd fuck her over the bench until I was just about ready to come, then she would finish me off with her mouth, and finish herself off with her free hand. While I moved the furniture back into place, she would roll a joint for us to smoke as we walked to the little restaurant a few blocks down.

She was starving after her drive.

Chapter 1: Sitting at the Table Where it All Began for Us

After dinner, we liked to go to a bar around the corner called One Last Shag. It's the kind of place where the bartenders come early, sober up during their shift, and stay long after the doors are locked. There's a garden out back with tiki torches and a fake beach, and on summer nights when it was crowded you could always find someone willing to share a toke with you. The first time we went there was after our first fight.

Earlier that snowy afternoon we had been whispering to each other on the bed, my cock inside her, when I asked her if she had any experience with strap-ons. 

"One time," she said shyly, and with a touch of annoyance.

"Giving or receiving?"

"Receiving," she said.

"Me too." 

She pulled me out then without a word, and I went soft with shame at having overstepped. That afternoon, for the first time, we didn't know what to say to each other. Since the awkwardness of staying in was intolerable, we decided to go out. As we walked past full bar after full bar, the snow turned wet and became sleet. With each bar we couldn't get into, I got grumpier and she got colder. 

One Last Shag was packed and too loud, but there wasn't a cover charge and everything was about to fall apart if we didn't get a drink soon, so we pushed our way in and fought towards the bar. We were both nearly blind behind fogged-up glasses, and it was starting to seem hopeless that we'd ever manage to get a drink. Just then someone planted a kiss on her cold cheek and handed us a full bottle of champagne. That was the kind of thing that happened at One Last Shag. She and I passed the bottle back and forth, our bodies and our dispositions warming with each swig. By the time the bottle was half gone we were making out, and when it was empty she had started grinding into me, caressing my chest and grabbing my nipple ring beneath my shirt.

Shots were flowing freely at One Last Shag, the braless bartender handing them out to any girl who would kiss her. After several of these shots, we found our way to the jukebox and flipped through the catalog until we found a song we both liked, Just Like Candy. Sweaty bodies on the packed dancefloor pushed us together as we waited for our song to come on. My jeans were tight over my hardening cock, and she fucked my thigh unabashedly. I whispered drunken declarations of of love into her ear, and she whispered this into mine: 

"The things I want to do to you I can't do on the dancefloor." 

I kissed her and started toward the front door, but she confused me by pulling the other direction. We found ourselves in the bathroom, and as I pulled the door shut behind us she plunged her hands down the front of my pants. She was on her knees unzipping me before I knew it, but I pulled her back up to kiss her—partly to taste the mixture of cheap whiskey and precum on her lips, but mostly because I wanted to fuck her.

I turned her around and bent her over the sink, undid her belt and peeled her jeans down just far enough to spank her. I hit her again, harder, and I slid one finger over her vulva her to see how wet she was. Usually she liked taking my cock before her cunt was really ready—the first inch hurt us both, the second just hurt her and made her scream, and by the third she was soaking and ready for the next five inches. But since we in a public bathroom, I didn't want her to scream, so I checked her pussy with my fingertip. She was soaked already. My cock slid in to the hilt on the first push. In the mirror over the sink, I watched her elbows lock as she pushed herself back against me, deeper onto my cock. I pulled her hair and fucked her hard over the sink. 

Right around the time our song finally came on, I could feel her juice dripping down the base of my cock. She was close. That's when the banging on the door started.

She gasped, either because it killed the moment or because the reminder that someone was just a few feet away pushed her over the edge. Either way, she pulled herself off my cock and I started to zip my pants. She looked at me with her mischievous smirk, kneeled down in front and sucked me off before the next angry knock from outside. She stood up, swallowed, and gave me a passionate open-mouthed kiss that left both of our lips slick. I opened the door to the fuming face of the braless waitress, her cheeks and chest flushed, her tiny tits poking through the sheer gray fabric of her shirt.

She recognized us from the shots. Her admonishing frown was replaced by a conspiratorial grin. She leaned in and gave me a peck on the cheek before giving my girl a long drunken kiss and then spanking her away from the bathroom. 

Later that evening when we finally decided to leave, we saw her on the sidewalk in front of the bar, about to light a cigarette. Our eyes lingered a moment too long as the realization hit us that she could probably still taste our sex on her lips as she pulled in her first drag.

She smiled and waved goodbye. We fucked again, thinking of her, as soon as we got home. 

That was five years ago. 

Now I'm back at One Last Shag at 5:30pm on a lonely Friday, sitting at the end of the bar down near the silent jukebox. 

Chapter 2: This Surely is a Dream

The afternoon drinkers, for the most part, have cleared out, and the after-work crowd has just started to trickle in. I'm one seat down from the end of the bar with only the latest in a series of Shaggy Mules to keep me company. Each one compromises my judgment a bit more, and because there's no one next to me and anything goes here anyway, I pull up the video on my phone.

Though I remember every detail, I haven't watched it for months, not since our final fight. I even remember the prelude to this video: the days before Superstorm Sandy hit, which we spent stocking up on food, beer, weed, and candles as the subways shut and New Yorkers prepared for the worst. 

When the storm finally arrived, I was battening down the final hatches upstairs, she was downstairs setting up the tripod. We watched a scary movie until the electricity went out. While I lit candles, she got dressed. I had already gathered her long black gloves, the six-garter maitresse belt and silk stockings, and her open French bralette. She slipped into them while I lit more candles, enough light for a grainy, noir cast in the video we were about to film. She lay down on our red satin sheets and I tied her wrists to the bed posts. Once her blindfold was tight, I reached over to the side table drawer and took out our nipple clamps and ring gag. The gag was first, so that she couldn't say no to the clamps. Her favorite vibe, the curved maroon one with one pressing her clit and the other against her g-spot, slid easily into place. Everything was now ready. I pressed "record." 

The first shadowy still of the video is on my screen when I sense someone sitting down on the stool next to mine. Ashamed to be the single guy at the end of the bar looking at porn, I close the video hoping she she didn't notice it. I glance at her and try not to stare at her plump red lips, curly auburn hair with the the last hints of a black dye job almost entirely grown out, or the elastic of her fishnets peeking out from under the hem of her skirt. She reaches up to take her cocktail from the bartender, and I see the wrist portion of a tattoo sleeve. I turn away and stare into my drink, attempting to appear pensive and mysterious, rather than pathetic.

A few minutes later, I feel her foot casually brushing against my leg, as if by accident. I turn to say hello.

She had been looking straight at me, smiling skeptically. Even though we are complete strangers, our conversation flows without introductions or awkwardness. I ask about her tattoo and she tells me how, someday, it will continue over her shoulder and down her back, over her hip and down the front of her thigh. She tells me how much this bar has changed since she lived in the neighborhood. This would be her last visit for a while because she's moving to Miami in a few days. I tell her how jealous I am that she's moving to such an amazing place. She says Miami is where her family is, and that moving back there feels like a failure. I try to buy her a drink, but she refuses politely.

"I'm going to see a friend later tonight, and I don't want to get started too early." 

We talk for about an hour, closer and closer, her hand on my knee, then mine on hers. I can feel her hot skin through the fishnets.

Then she says, "I have to go. Buy me two shots."

I buy four and we drink them, and she says, "Listen, here's my number. Give me a call later, OK?" 

The second shot had made me drunk, and as I fumble to save her number, flustered by the interest of this enticing stranger, she looks at me with a touch of pity and says, "You know what, come along. I'm afraid you'll pass out and forget to call me."

She flags a cab, and we sit in the back making out. I brush a hand over her breast, and to my surprise she grabs my wrist and pulls it away. Then she pins it against the car seat and kisses me harder.

I don't know where we're going, but we're crossing the Brooklyn Bridge. As we sit in late night traffic into Manhattan, the skyline shining through the windshield, she says to me, "This might be a long ride. Tell me something you've never told anyone else before." 

Chapter 3: Just a Kiss Away

A breeze blows in through the window, and I lean close to her ear so that the driver can't hear and so that she can feel my the heat of my breath as I speak these words for the very first time. 

There were two sexiest moments. 

The first was a few minutes after I walked in the door. An hour earlier, I had gotten this email: "I have a friend here who wants to see me fuck you. Come now. Don't think, just come right now."

Up until I dialed the apartment from the lobby I had no idea what would happen. I rode the elevator up and knocked on the door. After a long minute it opened, just a crack, and a woman smiled out at me. When she let me in I saw why she was hiding behind the door - she was naked, her dirty blond hair disheveled, her hips wide and fit, her large breasts red from whatever had been happening just before I arrived. I instinctively reached out to shake her hand, and with a giggle she introduced herself. Then she said, "Follow me."

The whole apartment reeked of fresh fucking, but it was strongest coming from the bedroom. The lights were off and the shades down in most of the apartment, but the late afternoon light shone through the bedroom window. She led me towards the door.

He was standing in front of the window, shirtless, and when he turned to greet me I could see the outline of his cock through the thin fabric of the pants he'd just pulled on.

"I'm Jefferson," he said. "Nice to meet you. Have you ever kissed a man?"

My hesitation was answer enough. He pulled me towards him and kissed me without tenderness but with a sexuality as raw as the stubble that was now scratching my face. I detected the faint taste of pussy on his lips.

"Good. We got that out of the way," said Jefferson.

At first I had no idea where to put my hands, but they found their way to his ass, and as he kissed me they slid around in search of his cock. The shame and mild revulsion I felt from the kiss were replaced by unrestrained arousal as soon I found it. I untied his pants and slid them down. She watched from the edge of the bed, an intent smile on her lips and a lowball of whiskey in her hand. I took each of his nipples in my mouth, sucking and then biting them, while his cock hardened in my other hand. He pulled my pants down, and I leaned toward him, rubbing my cock up against his and squeezing them together. He kissed me again, and I knelt down in front of him. 

That moment—the city lights shining through his window against the darkening sunset, the unbearable anticipation, his cock against my cheek—strangely reminded me of another moment a few years ago. When I was a kid I loved the outdoors and I wanted nothing more than to visit a national park out West, but I never had the chance to go. Then, finally, when I was 23, I could afford the trip myself, and after a six hour flight and two more hours of driving, I arrived at the towering stone gate of the entrance to Yellowstone. I stepped out of the car, the afternoon sun shining around the edges of ominous afternoon clouds, so that I could feel the windswept drizzle stinging my face and remember that moment. The thing I had imagined so many times was about to become real.

I took a deep breath. I walked through the gate. That was the first sexiest moment.

Chapter 4: Chelsea Hotel

We pull up beside a nondescript brick building on 11th avenue, and she pays the driver. 

"I guess I'll have to wait to hear about the second sexy moment," she says with a smile. 

She sends a text message and a moment later someone buzzes us in. She leads me up five steep flights of stairs to a heavy green metal door.

It's open.

The smell of incense, oil paint, and body odor fills the canyonesque space, a long but narrow studio with 20 foot ceilings, a bare pine sleeping loft, and a huge industrial sink that seems to double as an illegal shower. One of the walls has a ladder up against it and I can see six foot tall knee-high boots painted on the brick, fading into the unlit reaches of the upper wall so that I couldn't make out who was wearing them. A trim woman in her mid forties turns when we come in the door, her face glowing with a mischievous grin. She's wearing a pair of paint-covered, ass-hugging jeans. As she turns, her braless breast nearly falls out the side of her tank top. When she gets closer, I can see her nipple piercings showing clearly through the loose fitting top. 

She squeals at the sight of my companion, ignoring me completely and exclaiming, "Natalia! You can't go to Miami!" It's the first time I've heard her name. 

Natalia kisses her on the lips, hugs her tightly, and says, "My dear, I don't know how I can leave you." She introduces me. The painter's name is Max. Max points to three decrepit office chairs surrounding a makeshift table made out of a mirrored tray and an overturned trashbin, and says, "Have a seat. I'll get the booze." 

She steps into an alcove and reappears with a half-empty bottle of Glenfiddich and a bag of white powder. 

"I brought the good stuff for your going away party," says Max, "but I forgot the glasses."

She passes me the Scotch and empties some of the powder onto the mirror, then pulls a MetroCard from her back pocket to make three neat lines. Without asking if I want to partake, she lifts the tray and hands it to me with a rolled dollar bill. "Tell me about yourself, Natalia's friend," she says.

My judgement still impaired, I snort a line. Instead of the expected rush of coke, I feel the slow warming of MDMA. I pass the tray to Natalia, and then say to Max:

"I love this studio. Who's attached to those gorgeous boots on the wall?" She smiles and flips on a light, and I see that the wall is covered in a 20-foot portrait of none other than Natalia. 

"She's my muse," says Max. "Is she yours as well?"

We chat, and by the time the bottle makes its way around twice we're old friends. I do my best to sound like I know something about painting. My efforts, if not convincing, at least seem to be endearing for Max. 

"I know what Natalia's creative outlet is," she says, "but what's yours?"

"I used to draw. Mainly self portraits, in charcoal and pastels. I lived in an attic and I'd hang my drawings from the rafters. I did nudes as well, and I started doing the self portraits in the first person, from my own perspective. My legs, my hands, my cock, all just like they looked to me."

Natalia asks, "Do you still have them?"

"I don't know. They're probably rolled up somewhere. I haven't even thought of them for years."

I take a swig of the Glenfiddich, then continue. "There was one time I was doing a self portrait looking down at a mirror mounted at the bottom of the easel. It was the first time I moved away from charcoal and into pastel, and the colors just blew me away. I might have been high, but when I looked at myself, with this distorted perspective and these intense, absurd colors, I..." I hesitate, a brief wave of shame passing through me at the prospect of sharing this memory so freely.

"You what?" Max asks eagerly, not tolerating my embarrassment. 

"I got hard. I got turned on by having created it." 

Max and Natalia share a smile. Max glancing at the portrait on the wall, says, "I know what you mean. So, what happened? Why did you stop?"

"I don't know." I think about it for a second. "Internet porn? Antidepressants? A reliable weed connection? Drawing couldn't really compete I guess. But I'm curious, how did you guys meet?"

Natalia explains. "We were at an opening in Greenpoint. Shitty artist, free wine. Mutual friend. What was his name?" 

"Fuck should I know?" says Max. "But Natalia and I hit it off, and I crashed at her place for a while until I found this place."

"I've got a bunch of Max's paintings at home. All packed up now, though. Those things will be worth a lot of money in Miami. It's Brooklyn art!"

"Yeah, I did some painting for Talia and we arranged a little barter system. We've still got it going, as a matter of fact."

"Natalia, what did you trade for the paintings?" I ask, naively.

"Good question!" she says, and then she stands up and walks toward the door, stopping at the alcove to grab a bag. 

"Bathroom's in the hall," says Max. "She has to get ready." Then she twirls her finger in a little circle and says, "Why don't you roll yourself around for a minute. I need to get undressed." 

I'm still processing this.now facing away from Max, when I hear her say, "You have no idea how fucking lucky you are, Natalia's friend." 

Things had changed very quickly.

"Ok, you can turn around now."




Wanderlust Pt. 01



Max is sitting naked in the office chair, the giant portrait looming behind her. She's got a two-day shadow of pubic hair, and she's wearing a narrow black collar.

"Seriously," she says, "This shit doesn't happen in real life. You better fucking enjoy it."

At that moment, Natalia walks in, four inches taller than before on the stiletto heels I recognize from the boots painted on the wall. She's wearing a black demi-cup corset, which creates deep cleavage but leaves her nipples exposed. Her pussy is perfectly smooth, as though she's just touched it up while changing. She's still wearing her thigh high fishnets, and she's holding what looks like a roll of black duct tape in one hand.

"In case you haven't guessed, this is Natalia's creative outlet," Max says. "She's a genius." 

It's the last thing Max is able to say, because Natalia covers her mouth with what I now recognize as latex bondage tape. Next are her wrists, bound to the armrests on the chair. 

"I told you to get a chair with four legs so that I can spread you wide open. I'm disappointed, Max. You never listen." 

Natalia turns Max's chair so that she's facing the portrait, her back to me, and plants herself between Max's legs. She's sitting on the overturned trash bin. She peers over Max's shoulder and looks me right in the eye.

"Don't you move. Don't try to get a better look, don't ask any questions, don't even say a word. And don't you even fucking think about touching yourself." 

These seem like impossible commands, but Natalia's deadly serious tone has persuaded me to do my best to obey them. I watch Max's head fall back over the edge of the chair as Natalia works on her. I can see Natalia's boot-covered knees visible on either side of the chair, the same boots on the wall, now illuminated by several wide red candles. I can't see what Natalia's doing, so all I can do is listen. I hear cars speeding through yellow lights on the streets below, the hum of compressors on the roof, Max's insistent moaning, and in the moments when those other noises pause, the soft, wet sound of whatever it is Natalia's working on. 

As I watch, I shift ever so slightly back and forth in my chair so that my pants rub against my cock. It's a momentary relief that only ends of getting me harder. The harder I get, the more pronounced my movements become. The chair creaks. Natalia looks up, and she's not happy.

"I warned you," she says coldly.

She walks over and wraps my wrists tight to the armrests. Once I'm immobilized she unbuttons my shirt and pulls my undershirt up over my face so that I can't see a thing. She undoes my belt and pulls my pants and underwear to the ground, tangling my legs so that I feel that much more helpless. 

I hear her steps walking back to Max's chair, then the sound of the chair swiveling toward me, and then a series of increasingly loud moans as Natalia pushes her relentlessly toward orgasm. It's as if she had planned to bring Max along slowly, but when I disobeyed her she decided to subject my helpless throbbing cock to the sound of Max careening toward climax, as punishment. 

When Max comes, my entire body shudders once, then shudders again as my cock pulses a dry, agonizing orgasm.

I can't hear anything, can't see anything, until the sound of laughter brings me back. Natalia pulls down my shirt, and pauses to admire how hard my cock is. "Good work, Max," she says, and for a second it looks like they're about to high five. I look at Max and see that her red, engorged pussy is ringed with about twelve clothes pins. A large dildo is resting on the floor three feet in front of Max, where it had landed after she came.

"I don't think I've ever seen a guy cum like that before," says Max. "Are you okay, Natalia's friend?" 

And with that, the scene is over.



Wanderlust - The Indonesian Massage



Hi! My name is Sophie. I'm 23, tall and a brunette. I'm curvy with 32C boobs and I have really lovely blue eyes, so I've been told. I had just gone through an awful break-up, and needed a change. I just needed to get away from everything. So I decided to do something most people only dream and fantasize about; travel the world.

Now, to my tremendous advantage, my dad is a multi-millionaire which helped me finance my travel. He's into the stock markets and all that. I really have no clue what exactly his job entails, but he earns the big bucks. I'm the only kid, and the object of my parents' coddling, so a puppy dog face is enough to get me whatever I want. But let me get one thing straight- I'm no spoilt brat. I have always been a hard worker and I promised him I would pay back every single penny when I got back from my adventures.

Here begins my story.

BALI, INDONESIA.

I've always been a not-so-conservative dresser, and definitely enjoyed the appreciative looks I got when I landed at the airport in Bali, an island in Indonesia. I was wearing a baby pink camisole, coupled with a see-through lace buttoned top and white skin-tight leggings. I was certain the men in front of me were ogling my cleavage as I bent to pick up my bags. I looked straight up at them with a questioning brow, causing them to clear their throats and look away in every other possible direction but mine. I chuckled to myself, walking out with a trolley.

I noticed a well built Indonesian man, probably in his early thirties, holding up a board that said Sophie Wayne. I waved a hand and walked to him.

"You must be Sophie!" he said excitedly. "I'm Nino, from the Imperial Regency, here to escort you to our hotel."

I shook his hand, staring into his deep eyes. Boy, he was gorgeous. "Lovely to meet you, Nino. Can we get going? I'm exhausted."

"Sure, ma'am" he answered, picking up my bags. "Right this way."

It was a 30 minute drive to the hotel, which was a 5 star luxury paradise. I bid farewell to Nino at the entrance, where the hotel staff escorted me to my room, and I flopped down on the soft, comfy bed, drifting into a deep sleep.

I woke up at around dinner time. After a quick shower, I wore a blue sundress with matching blue lace lingerie and walked out to explore. I soon found the restaurant, where I treated myself to a few drinks and some lovely Indonesian crab delicacy.

Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned around to look at a couple. The lady extended her hand to me. "Hi, I'm Dora and this is Sam. We're from England, and you look like a tourist just like us, so we thought we'd make some new friends."

I beamed at them. I loved meeting new people. I asked them to join me at the table.

They turned out to be great fun. They had just arrived yesterday and were scheduled to leave three days later, just like me. We had some more drinks and I swear, Sam's eyes were drifting more and more to my tits with each additional drink. I was feeling a little heavy-headed. I looked at my watch and it was 12, so we all decided it was time to head back to our rooms. We said our byes, and I walked back.

I wasn't particularly sleepy, but the alcohol was making my head hurt. I usually sleep naked at home, so I stripped bare, pulled the covers on me and fell asleep.

I awoke to a knock on the door and a voice that called out "Room service."

I called out, "Come in."

A young guy maybe 25, walked in with a tray and looking at me, gasped. I looked at him quizzically for a second before realizing that I was no longer under the covers, which had rolled over to the side, but stark naked in front of him. I saw his eyes taking in my smooth, shaved pussy and my swollen tits, and I smiled inwardly before putting on a face of shock and covering myself with a blanket.

The poor guy had gone red. He stammered a sorry, placed the breakfast tray on a table and walked out in a hurry.

I giggled, feeling a tingle in my stomach. A perfect stranger had just seen me naked! I was into exhibitionism. I loved the thrill of exposing myself.

I looked through the 'activities' brochure in the room, trying to decide what I wanted to do for the day. A massage program caught my eye. The hotel had a lovely spa and sauna, and getting a massage to relax myself was perfect. I wore a sleeveless top and some shorts with purple underwear, and headed straight for the spa.

The spa smelt of jasmine and lavender, with calm, soothing music playing in the background accompanied by the sound of trickling water. The receptionist asked me which massage I wanted to go for. My options were : Shoulder and back massage, foot massage, scalp massage and full body massage. Full body? Hmm, that sounded interesting. I told her I would like the full body massage and she directed me to a room and informed me that the masseuse would be coming soon and that I had to undress and lie on the table.

I took off my top and shorts, leaving my bra and panties on, lying on my back on the table. The door opened and a familiar, gorgeous, muscular man walked in – Nino.

I smiled up at him, "Nino! I didn't know you worked at the spa." He blushed, obviously mesmerized by my semi-naked body and took a few seconds to regain his composure before responding, "Yes, I actually am a trained masseuse, but also work as a chauffeur."

"You have signed up for the full body massage, right?" he continued. 

"Yes."

"Well, I'm gonna need you to take off all your clothes, even your inner wear."

Now it was my turn to blush. I got off the table, turned around and unclipped my bra. I then bent down and pulled down my panties, giving him a good view of my ass. I turned around to face him. I asked coyly, "Is this better?"

He smiled, "Yes, now please lie back down on your stomach, facing down. Just breathe slowly and relax."

I did as I was told. He poured some oil out of a bowl and rubbed it onto my feet. He massaged my feet slowly and gently, working each toe and rubbing both heels. He took his time on each foot. I was enjoying the feel of his strong hands. He asked me, "Would you like me to massage harder? I'm being gentle now, but I can press harder, and you can ask me to increase or decrease the intensity of the massage at any point." I thought about it for a moment and said that gentle was fine for now. He nodded and began working on my calves and thighs.

His fingers ran up right from my calves to the swell of my butt and back down again. Slowly his hands began to massage my butt gently. It felt wonderful. He rubbed in circles around my ass, kneading the soft flesh. The warm oil coupled with his firm hands was magical. He worked his way up to my back, his hands massaging my sides. His hands found their way higher, brushing the sides of my boobs. I let out an inwardly gasp. I was beginning to get quite aroused.

He then asked me to flip over and lie on my back. This time he started with my stomach, pouring the warm oil over it and rubbing my lean tummy. He gradually went higher, cupping my boobs gently and massaging just under them. My nipples were taut, pointing upwards, and I desperately wanted him to rub them. He then began massaging my neck and the part above my boobs, ignoring my tits altogether. I was dismayed, maybe this wasn't a literal full body massage, but no sooner than I thought this, that his hands ran over my boobs in one fluid motion, brushing over my hard nipples. I smiled, looking up at him as his hands kneaded and massaged my boobs. He pinched my nipples ever so slightly, making me moan softly, and he smiled, clearly enjoying himself. He spent a good five minutes on just my boobs, squeezing them and tugging on my nipples. By then, I was very horny, and felt a tingling in my pussy as I knew that that was where his hands were going next.

And as expected, he asked me to spread my legs, looked hungrily down at my wet pussy and poured some oil right through the slit. I moaned, feeling the warm oil trickling down my pussy, mixing with my wetness. His fingers delved right between my legs, slowly massaging my pussy lips up and down, while one finger caressed my clit, rubbing it slowly. I could notice a visible bulge in his pants, realizing that he was just as aroused as I was. I gasped as he surprised me by sliding a finger easily into me, thrusting it in slowly and gently. My breathing was quickening. He lifted my legs, folding them up, and told me to hold my legs close to my chest. He trailed a finger right from the top of my pussy to my tight butthole, circling it slowly, while still fingering my pussy with another finger. Without wasting a second, he pushed a finger, lubricated with oil, into my butt. I moaned, feeling both my pussy and ass being stimulated at the same time. I whispered to him, "I'd like to increase the intensity of the massage now, go harder please."

He obeyed, thrusting his fingers quicker, and I felt my stomach tighten, my pussy quiver in anticipation of an orgasm as I moaned louder. Suddenly I felt his fingers leave both holes. What the hell, I thought to myself, but was pleasantly surprised as I looked up to see him drop his pants, his hard cock springing out.

"May I?" he asked politely. I giggled. Someone was asking me permission to fuck me. I wanted some dirty talk, so I replied, "May you what?"

"May I put my cock in your pussy?" he replied, grinning.

"Why?" I teased.

He sensed I wanted a brazen reply and leaned close to me, whispering, "I want to bang you nice and hard, leave you moaning and wanting more."

I gasped. Without waiting for a reply, he thrust in me. I felt my pussy stretching to take in his cock and moaned. His fingers rubbed my boobs as he kept thrusting, increasing his speed with each thrust. I could feel him sliding deeper and deeper into my pussy. I felt my orgasm building up and I groaned, my pussy spasming over his cock. He followed, getting his cock out just before orgasming and shooting strands of warm, white cum across my stomach and tits. I scooped up some cum with my fingers and licked them up, tasting his salty juices. I have always loved tasting cum.

"Delicious" I winked up at him, smiling. He handed me a towel to clean off and waited till I got dressed, before kissing me on the cheek and escorting me out.

-Lots more to come! Please leave your comments! Thank you-