Standing in the Way of Control

“Show me how you wank”

The words came out of my mouth fast. I hadn’t even really thought about it. Had I told someone to do that before?

“I want to see how you do it” I added quickly.

We were both naked. He’d been standing by the bed, me sitting in the edge sucking his cock but I was uncomfortable, head tilted at the wrong angle so we’d changed positions.

He was lying down, fully erect. His cock was still glistening from being in my mouth. The veins stood out like threads of cotton on a fine piece of embroidered silk as his hand toyed with it.

“I normally use lube. A lot of lube” he explained. I quickly threw the bottle I kept in the bedside drawer at him.

I knelt beside him, watching him squirt the liquid into his hands and then smear it on his dick. My cunt twitched and I watched his hands grab himself.

He didn’t give me a running commentary and I didn’t need one. I had a ringside seat.

He pumped the shaft a few times. Adjusted its length. Let it fall back on his stomach with a thud. Then started ferociously again. The lube made a deliciously wet sound as he pumped up and down. His cock looked angry, pink and frustratingly good.

Sadly I couldn’t keep myself to myself. I couldn’t just watch. It was too tantalising. I joined in, giving the head a tongueing and swirling my lips around him.

Then stopped. Leant back on my haunches again.

He started up again. And again I couldn’t resist licking his bulging head, tasting the strange viscosity of the lube on him. I wanted him inside me. I could feel him throbbing and the heat of him.

I just wanted him to fuck me. Some voyeur I turned out to be.

In the park, Round 1 and 2

Round 1

After a series of missed calls, different numbers and a bit of anxiety about whether he would even show, we met for a date after he finished work.

The way he hugged me when he saw me, I knew. He had an idea about where we should catch a drink – this area near a canal that was attempting a ‘tropical’ theme way too early in the summer. It was barely June and still chilly.

We lay back on deck chairs, chatting about this and that. It was smooth, actually. We then retire to the ‘cabana’ for our next drink – somewhere a little more private. We get deeper in the conversation and the hands start wandering. Both pairs.

Some other couple came in, obviously with the same idea, so we all sat there on our best behaviour, until we couldn’t hold out anymore and needed to find a place to be.

He’d already asked about mine and I just wasn’t sure. I was staying for free at the real kindness of strangers and the last thing I wanted to do was make enemies by bringing boys around. I was shy, still.


He guided me into a park. Well, a kids playground, really, like I was 16 again. Maybe it was too gauche, but we had already spent ages kissing and holding hands and feeling each other up along the back streets, it was getting urgent.

And I love fucking outdoors, so I was pleased, although unusually nervous about getting busted.

We checked to see if anyone was about – it was dark, no moon and a Sunday night. Quiet.
He sat down on the bench and pulled me to sit on top of him. We made out again – lordy, his lips were soft and I actually could have kissed them for weeks.

He lifted my shirt, kissed my nipples, licked them, holding my arms above my head as he paid each one a little attention. Annoying, because my hands wanted to be all over his smooth chest, his warm body. Eventually, he let me at it and I dove straight for his waistband and struggled with the belt (the belt! It’s always the belt.)

I got off his lap and knelt on the ground, grabbed his cock and started licking and sucking it, not caring about getting my knees dirty. Feeling him relax into it and hearing him moan was hot. But we didn’t really have time to spare, so he pulled me up and turned me around, lifted up my skirt and started rubbing his hot, smooth and amazing cock up against my arse, whilst I bent over looking for the condoms in my bag.

I quickly put one on him and he turned me back around, grabbed my hips and guided his cock in – I bent over further, taking it all the way in and he set the pace. I was actually kind of awkward, hands on the ground, bent all the way over with him on the bench still, but it was fucking quick. We rattled and rolled, I tried to keep my noise levels down. He didn’t really make a noise, I wasn’t even sure if he liked it, or if it was just business. Maybe he was worrying about getting busted.

But he fucked me hard and fast from that bench, rubbed my bare arse and then a quiet, hoarse and desperate whisper ‘oh, I’m going to come!. And reader, he did. Even with the condom on, I felt the hot come shooting desperately out of him.

He didn’t stay long inside – ripped the condom off quickly and was dressed, sitting on the bench, whilst I was sitting hunched, legs askew, knickers around my ankles, panting. I didn’t have any tissues, so just pulled everything up, slightly sticky, and collected my things.

It wasn’t as erotic as I thought it was going to be. I don’t know whether that’s because I still didn’t know him all that well to read him. But it seemed to be mutual.

We walked in silence to the station. There was a sinking feeling that it was all just cold, used. That the date was all just a ruse and the conversation just coercion. But as we got on the train, we warmed up again. Sitting close, chatting about the trains, about food, plans to eat together. I had forgotten that it wasn’t that late.


Round 2

He asked me if I was sure that we couldn’t go back to my place. I really wasn’t. So we ate anyway, regained a connection again after the weird anti-climax and as we walked to the next station, the heavens opened up. We got absolutely saturated. We were in the middle of the street, holding onto each other, I lifted his shirt to feel his wet, warm skin – he drew me to him. He was wet, and hard again.  I was just all wet.

Fuck it. Let’s go back to my place and get dry, at least. ‘Dry’ was the new euphemism

So we snuck in. I scoped it to see if the night-owl housemate was up and when the coast was clear, we crept in like an SAS team. Only one creak of the floor boards.

We stripped off immediately and rather than thrust through it, we lay back, listening to music. We didn’t rush, but allowed the horny desperation from the train ride to build again. I think I made the first move. I shoved my hand straight into his boxers, grabbed his balls and held them tight. I felt his cock get hard straight away and I got to my knees, I started licking just his balls and holding him in a bit of suspense. He just rubbed his hands all over my body, like he was getting lost in the terrain.

We kissed and after condom #2 broke, and #3 put on, I climbed on top again. I rode him for a while and it was jsut nice to look down on him, see him smiling in into the quite, chilled out grinding at 2am. I could feel him almost come and then he caught himself. At that moment, he sat up, flipped me over and in time to the music, ground his dick deep into me. He was reaching and he caught me.

I love a man’s hands grabbing firmly on my hips and he hit a sweet spot. I came hard and quietly. It was like trying to hold your breath in the surf. I held on for dear life as I felt my cum running down my legs and soaking his thighs too. He came with three shudders and the smell of his hair oil exploded into my senses.

We held each other there for what felt like 10 minutes, almost falling asleep bent over the side of the bed.

He had to go home – it was 3am and he had to get up and work. I crept naked with him to the door, kissed him and wished him well in a whisper.

Featured on Elust #61 – our first time!

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Photo courtesy of Maria opens up

Welcome to Elust #61

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #62? Start with the rules, come back September1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

Bloggers, please
I Touch Myself
Stunt Porn / People Porn

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Is sex unsexy? A ‘His & Hers’ post
Van Gogh, an erotic author and a selfie…


~ Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*

His Desires

All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7

days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!


Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Anorgasmia in women
One Week On
Safe Craigslist Hookups
Online Dating: How to Talk to People
Stealth Sex Toys-Stash Management
Last Longer In Bed For Men Naturally

Erotic Non-Fiction

Spicing Up Sex Life
Gasp, Shake, Thank You
Again and Again
Fapping to My Photos and Stories
Did you miss me?
Desire….What happens when you can’t succumb?
Off Balance
On the Sofa
The Solace of My Body
Self Given
Orgasms & Ice Cream
Skid Marks

Sex News,Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Jacky au royaume des filles
What makes a sex writer?
Dubrovnik whore as metaphor 4 Balkan politics
Am I Pretty or Ugly?

Erotic Fiction

Lonely observations
Fucking and Being Fucked
The Churning Black, Part 4
A Return to Purpose
Bang on Target!
My Night With Lilith

Writing About Writing

Words That Shouldn’t Be In Erotica
Transhumanist Erotica: Jacked In


Just One Look

Thoughts and Advice on Kink and Fetish

The Hotness Of Cockteasing A Guy In Chastity
My eyes are over here
Submissive Men 101 Facts
Emotional Masochism
The time I made him make me safeword


Frame Game – A Lusty Limerick


Diana J Torres- Vagaculation Workshop

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Guest banger number 2 : Anon

The Red Box

I wasn’t a ‘one night stand’ sort of girl. But it had been a long time. And every now and then, a girl needs to indulge herself.

He was a ‘Mr Big’ if ever I met one. And I don’t mean in the sense that I would fall in love with him. He was rich, successful, powerful. He had made several radio appearances and was being followed for a TV Series about himself and a business investment he was pursuing. He had brains – two degrees from Oxford – was a historian and a published author. In terms of success, he was at the very top of his game. In fact, he was at the top of everyone’s game.

He messaged me through an online dating site with one of the longest, most interesting messages I have ever received. He was incredibly polite and explained what he was looking for articulately and with apologies in case his message caused offence. He explained that he didn’t want a ‘regular relationship’ because he was too busy and out of the country too often, but was looking for someone who might enjoy ‘uncomplicated and highly satisfying encounters from time to time…someone who would appreciate having her every physical need taken care of while enjoying a bottle of champagne…’ He confirmed he was unattached, not married and in good shape. I screen shot his message and sent it to a friend in a ‘you won’t believe this message I’ve just received’ type way. Her reply surprised me, and tapped into something I’d been thinking all along without realising it: ‘Aren’t you intrigued to find out more? Could be an adventure?’

Always one for an adventure and with the feeling rising that an adventure of the sexy variety might be just what I needed, I replied to him. I told him this wasn’t something I would usually consider but admitted I was intrigued, and I took him up on his offer of getting his details and doing a little bit of detective work on him.

The best thing about his success is that it made him very easy to Google. Seeing clips of his TV series gave me a 3D perspective of him, unusual before most dates. He came across incredibly well. I got in touch to tell him I was interested but that I hoped we could have a ‘no expectations’ meeting first to see if we were attracted to each other. He agreed that this was a sensible idea and commented on how civilised the whole thing was. And it really was. It seemed like a sexy, grown-up and practical interaction with two people being very clear about what they wanted…needed…and working out how to go about it.

We agreed on a date and he said he had a special place in mind, texting me later in the week to confirm he’d managed to book us a table. Even though I felt confident that I could walk away if I decided things should go no further, the whole meeting was laced with sex and excitement. I went shopping to find a suitably sexy outfit, should we decide that we did want to take things further that night, settling on something light and silky with a zip that ran all the way down from the low v-neck to the bottom of the dress, just above my knee. I wore black lace underwear and hold-ups, and donned some of my highest heels. As I arrived, I felt sexy and confident.

The place he’d booked was indeed special. Nestled at the back of a top London hotel, the oak-panelled bar had the feel of a gentleman’s club from the twenties. The drinks menu was decadent and expensive, with every drink served in heavy, cut crystal tumblers with enormous (if slightly pretentious) blocks of ice. He was just as I had expected, having seen so much of him already. Incredibly charming and interesting, the conversation flowed easily and my nerves evaporated very quickly. He was far more open than I imagined he would be given the circumstances of our meeting, telling me about his family, showing me pictures of his nieces and nephews. He seemed like a good guy and I felt like I was on a normal first date –albeit an incredibly classy one. I found him attractive. He was tall, rugged…a touch of the Jason Statham about him (although an incredibly posh Jason Statham.) He came from a totally different world from me, talking about having ‘staff’ at home and how he couldn’t understand people who didn’t. He intrigued me, and the fact that we were worlds apart seemed to give me the green light: I could sleep with this man without any complicated feelings getting in the way. He was absolutely not the type of man who could fit in my life on a regular basis but on these terms? The idea excited me.

After a few rounds of drinks, he asked the waitress for the bill. I wasn’t sure what this meant – he hadn’t suggested we end the evening or that we go somewhere else. I continued to sip my drink, rolling the ice around in my heavy glass, and waited for him to say something about where he saw the evening going next. When he didn’t, I asked if he wanted to call it a night. He looked me in the eye and said, confidently; ‘Why don’t we go back to mine for a bottle of champagne?’ A thrill of excitement ran right through me. Locked into eye contact with him, I smiled…and nodded.

We hadn’t even kissed, yet I felt that this was the right thing to do. I wanted to be seduced. I wanted to enjoy stepping out of my normal dating boundaries and let myself go on a sexual adventure. I wanted to spend a few hours being less ‘me’…indulge purely in the physical…let go.

His place was a short stroll away. When we got there, he cracked open the champagne, lit candles all around us, and kissed me. We sat on his bed and talked some more, sipping champagne, him kissing me between words. It wasn’t long before he took my glass from my hand, put it on the side, laid me down and started to run his hand up along my leg, feeling the lace top of my hold-ups and groaning with pleasure, whispering ‘oh god’ in my ear.

He sat up and started to unzip my dress until it came completely loose, pulling me up to sit in his lap to let it fall from my shoulders. He became rougher now, kissing, sucking and biting my neck and chest, unclipping my bra and taking my breasts in his mouth, groaning in appreciation as he did. There was an animalistic urgency to everything he did, his bites getting harder the more turned on he became. He pulled my knickers off then stood up and quickly stripped himself, climbing on top of me then working his way down until his head was between my legs. I liked the feeling of the power he had, that he was in control and that he was getting off on enjoying me.

He seemed frantic and urgent and quickly climbed up to kiss me again, rolling onto his back and pulling me on top of him. Again he moved fast, trying to slide immediately inside me, with me stopping him to whisper ‘condom’. He reached out his hand and opened a large red box which sat next to his bed, passing one to me to put on him. The box had me intrigued. Too large to act as storage purely for condoms, I started to wonder about it as I slipped the condom onto him and slid him inside me. He felt amazing and I came fast once, and then again almost instantly, much to his delight. He pushed me off of him and laid me down on the bed again, a look of concentration on his face as he adjusted my arms above my head, before saying; ‘Stay exactly as you are. Don’t move. I want you to stay just like that…close your eyes…don’t worry about me. This is all for you. Just relax and enjoy.’ Being told what to do was as hot as hell and I tried to follow his instructions, although I couldn’t resist opening my eyes when I heard the box open. I saw him pull something from it before I closed them again, then felt him cover me in a cold, tingling lube with the flat of his hand. Gasping at the sensation, I wondered what was coming next. I opened my eyes and watched him. Again, he opened the box, this time pulling out a small vibrator. As I gasped in surprise, he turned it on and started to run it along my clitoris, watching my face as he did. After a minute or two, he reached over and the red box opened again, this time producing a second, longer vibrator which he slid inside me, a look of focussed concentration on his face. I let the multiple sensations wash over me until again, his urgency took over and he threw both vibrators aside, letting them vibrate angrily against the wall, climbed on top of me and slid into me again, groaning loudly and biting my breasts and shoulders.

He was strong and threw me into each position as he wanted to, flipping me over onto my stomach and pulling my arms behind my back as he thrust, furiously into me. His breathing became harder and he pushed me face down onto the bed, gripping me hard around the hips as he came, loudly, into me.

I lay face down in the sheets for a few moments, feeling the ache of him on me.

Sitting up, he grinned at me, handed me my glass of champagne and said ‘That is how every Monday evening should be spent.’

I finished my champagne and left soon after. On the way home, I noticed red marks on my chest and bruises forming on my arm. Once I got home, I took my clothes off and stood looking at my body in the mirror. I had love bites on my breasts and nipples, bite marks on my chest and shoulders, a purple bruise on my top lip where he had bitten me, and hand print bruises on arms and thighs. Our encounter may have been brief, but the marks he left on me lasted for days.

Every time I looked at them…I smiled.

Hot town, summer in the city

We rode the bus home to my place. It was early evening, hot and close. I could feel sweat dripping down my back. I took a seat, he held onto one of the overhead straps. It was hard not to laugh – his groin was directly in my eyeline and he was visibly at least semi-hard already. But I ignored it and made conversation instead.

I unlocked my front door and we put bags down, made very small talk.
Very soon we were upstairs. He fell back on the bed and I landed on top. We kissed slowly, then quickly, then slowly again, as if our lives depended on it and were both covered in sweat straightaway from the intense and concentrated activity. It was fast and furious and both of us clearly needed to get laid. There was a sexy controlled urgency to our movements.
I could tell how hard he was and my cunt instinctively pressed against him to feel it. I ground against him, unable to do anything else, unable to think about anything else other than him fucking me hard and we teased each other for a while. He said I could choose whether to take my pants off or his. Firstly I undid his trousers, his pants were soaking, from me or from him or from both. Hot dang, I was soaking.

I peeked inside his pants and carefully took him in my mouth. He was fully hard, hot to trot. I sucked him from root to tip and then put his cock neatly back inside. What a tease.
He loved it.
By now we were both just in our underwear – it was way too hot and ridiculous to keep clothes on.

I think I chose to take my pants off. I can’t remember because it didn’t matter. I remember wishing I didn’t want him inside me so much, wishing I could contain my lust. He bit on my breasts, hard, licking and teasing my nipples, grabbing them. I was still straddling him.
I took his pants off. His cock teased around my cunt, slipping with sweat and pre-cum. I slid up and down its length, enjoying the feel of it rubbing against me, tantalisingly close. I enjoyed the feel of us both soaked in each other. I enjoyed the feel of it so much I almost came. I had to leap off him like a jackrabbit to stop myself. Concentrate fucking hard. Focus. Stop thinking about it. Think about anything but THAT. His cock wasn’t even inside me, I was so turned on. That was a first.
But that wasn’t the end of the night.


He’s been running. Heck, he’s run from mine to his. He says its all downhill and the way back will be harder. We both undress quickly, I leave my pants on. He’s fiddling with earphones, his shorts. I lie back on the bed, inviting him to join me.
He lies down beside me and starts kissing me. I can feel the heat radiating from his body, his back is covered in a light sweat. He smells great. I can’t describe it, it’s not an overpowering aftershave, its a bitter musky smell which I love.
We kiss for a while and then he starts rubbing and licking my tits. Traces my cunt through my pants. Pulls the pants off and starts kissing it. He’s down there for a while, then shifts position, bowing down at my altar, giving me a cheeky grin before he starts.
My thighs jerk on their own, he’s nibbling at my clit and my legs are no longer my own. I’m close to losing it but pull myself back.
At this point I haven’t even touched his cock. And he doesn’t seem to mind.
His fingers go inside me and he’s working me, alternating with kisses there too. I’m very close but no cigar.
He comes up to kiss me, a kiss that tastes of me. A wet sloppy sexy me and I like it.
His cock nudges my pussy as if to say “hey, what about me”.
He knows where the condoms are, unrolls one and slowly pushes inside. I’m so wet it glides straight in. My legs close around him and we slowly fuck, its beautiful. I look at his body and I really really love it.
After a while he pulls out and says “I want to come on your tits”
I say :
“I want to sit on top of you”.
He relents.
We slowly assume the positions. Its tender this time, there are some feelings there that come from familiarity, on both sides.
My brain says things to me like “Why can’t we fuck him all the time?” and them it shuts down.
He pulls out again. “I’m so close to coming”
“Dammit so am I”
He grabs my chest so his cheeks are flanked by my tits, his mouth is between them and he bites a little. God, that’s hot.
We slide across each other, I could come like this but I want him inside me again.
He comes, the only reason I can tell is that his cheeks go pink.
I’m frustrated. We lie back and I try playing with myself but it’s not going to work.
He takes a shower and I fiddle with stuff finding something to wear.
I glance into the bathroom and see him wiping his face with my towel, cock still proudly erect, jutting out before him. Its a beautiful image and an image I wouldn’t mind every day.
He leaves and I writhe on the bed with a vibrator, finding it really hard to come.
When I finally do, I can smell him on me.
Better than a croissant.


I’m sitting on the edge of the bed watching him. He’s not sure what I want so I make it a little more obvious.
I lift up my dress and flash my knickers.
Then replace it, lean back, arms on the bed.
It’s the cue he needed.
He kneels in front of me and pulls my dress up like he’s laying a tablecloth in an almost perfect half fold parallel to my waist.
He shifts on his haunches and gets comfortable. I look him in the eye.
He winks. And slowly, with just one finger, he traces my cunt lips through the lace of my knickers.
It’s delicious. So gently, yet the soft touch triggers my body into action and I feel the fabric begin to bloom and grow wet from my juices. I close my eyes.
How did my body become this responsive? A dead giveaway. One touch there and I’m thinking ahead to what I want next. But stop myself. Make myself concentrate. Mindfulness.
His mouth is down there now, his lips on my lips – a thin cover between his skin and mine. I sigh.
His fingers pull the lace aside roughly and his tongue slides up and down my slit. I lie back on the bed and slowly thrust upwards towards him, hands on my ass.
He’s feasting. I look down and his head is moving between my legs. I grab his hair. All I can hear is how wet I am. And his grunts.
His tongue goes side to side, a finger alternates and its good. Real good. I feel wetness seeping out of me and I feel alive.
I want his cock. I pretend his finger is his cock and slide up and down it. I want him to fuck me hard. I want him pressing down on me with a handful of my hair in his grasp so I can’t move. I want to feel him whispering filth into my ear. But his tongue is sending me to places far away and I’m lost in the moment.
His fingers work away like an expert craftsman. Delving into me. Creating waves of pleasure. And suddenly he’s licking my ass, fingers still inside me. Its dirty and its wrong but it feels like he’s enjoying it. I wonder what his face looks like but I can’t see.
His tongue flicks around my asshole and his fingers slide in and out of my sopping wet cunt. I’m powerless – his hands have me captured.
I’m bucking like an animal, I’m close to coming but I need something else. Something dirtier. As if by magic its like he’s read my mind.
He brings out the buttplug, covers it in lube and in a few slick moves it’s positioned inside me. Mmmmm.
Suddenly he’s standing up. Wipes his mouth with his hand and grins at me again.
Then grabs my ankles and holds them above my head. I’m a little uncomfortable but I’m keen to see what he has in store.
He kneels on the edge of the bed and guides his cock inside, still holding my ankles. I can’t move much.
The feeling of him inside me with my ass filled tightly is too good.
As he pumps his cock into me, slowly and methodically I start to feel my feet go numb.
I start to feel a tingle in my legs, travelling up my thighs and let go a groan. I stop fighting it, stop holding it in and succumb. His balls are banging against my ass and his cock is pounding my cunt and his chest hair is rubbing against my nipples and his face is locked in concentration and oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck I’m coming and I can’t even speak and my mouth opens and closes like a fish and I must look so stupid and I look at him and his eyes are closed and his hands let go my ankles and he’s ramming inside me and grunting and panting coming oh god I can feel him inside me spurting.
God that was perfect.

Guest banger number 1: Anon

Come On Over

“Come on over and suck me. Please.” says the text…

I giggle to myself.

I’d known much earlier in the evening how this would go, but we’ve been texting back and forth for a bit, pretending that he’s not asking me to drive across a city to suck him off. Pretending that I’m not horny enough for him to actually do it.

The text is a mix of cheek and charm, of course. As ever. He knows I love dirty words, but that they should be framed in niceties.

Am I really going to drive across a city to give him a blow job because he’s tired and hungover? Really?

Judging by how tingly my bits are right now, I would say that on balance, yes. Yes, I am.

Ten minutes later I’m parking up outside his house.

He’s naked pretty quickly and lies back on his bed, his cock rock hard already, jutting out from his body at practically a 90 degree angle.

I start with some gentle licks, teasing. Round the head of his dick. So lightly I think at times he will only just feel me. Then shallow in my mouth, just the head again, occasionally stopping so we can kiss. Then my hand and my mouth.

All the time he’s watching me. He explains later that he can see right down my top to my tits, shelved by a pink lacy bra.

I’m taking my time, because I want to enjoy having him in my mouth, but also so that he can appreciate the view. And I like feeling that I’m the one in control, for once, his dick straining as my tongue flick, flits, flickers.

There’s a point when he gasps “I want to come, I want you to make me come…” and I realise that I’m moaning too, making little grunts as he thrusts into me.

He comes in my mouth, a series of twitches and judders, slightly bitter, slightly beery. I lick his cock clean like it’s an ice lolly.

I never actually undress. He doesn’t really touch me the whole time. I’m on my way home exactly 42 minutes after arriving.

Today. Today, I feel a bit ridiculous that I’d make a car journey to give someone a blow job. Not only am I ridiculous enough to do it, I’m probably ridiculous enough to wank over it for months afterwards.

But as I turn a page on the document I’m reading, I’m not really taking it in. I’m thinking about my lips on his gorgeous cock. How he looked, so hard, desperate for my mouth.

The last time.

We had fucked twice before and I knew this was going to be the last. We snuck out of the party and went down the back corner, like the first time we met. As he kissed me, his fingers were already in my cunt and it was saturated.

‘You’re already wet!’

‘Well, we better do something to fix you good, then’ was his promise. He plunged his fingers deeper in and whilst we tried to keep our movements in the shadows to a minimum, he gave me a proper finger bang. 

I gripped his shoulders and came in his hands, standing. Whilst I was trying to remember how to properly stand up, he cooed, proud of his work.

After a blow job for him, in which he tried to really labour the point and shove my head down, we went back to mine, but the sex was crap. He hadn’t brought condoms, had perved on girls when we were trying to find them, and he couldn’t get it up anymore. It was gone.

But the taste and the shudder of that orgasm standing up, still remains.