The Facilities Manager part three

He is snuggled into me on the sofa, nibbling my neck, hands on my knees rather like the first time we met. Except the sofa is in my house and this is a Sunday morning, a little earlier than arranged. 

He was early: he arrived looking more beautiful than ever. My lover, the one i have been lusting after. His hands case the joint that are my shorts – he can fit his hand inside and caress those places covered by tights and pants. I moan a little. He kisses me and tells me to sit on his knee. We are in full view of anyone who may be walking past. I straddle him and he pulls at my shirt, his fingers struggle to undo the buttons as they are so small. He pulls out a nipple from my bra. He tastes of strawberry bubble gum, his hair is thick with pomade, a tiny sprinkling of grays at his temples. His hands cup my ass, he tries to undo my shorts. As I get up I notice a spot of wet on his jeans, from me. We go upstairs. 

He helps me take off my shoes, giving up with the laces and pulling them off still tied. We fumble together, pulling off clothes, unzipping and removing layers. I just have my knickers on. He moves down my body, planting kisses on my stomach and licks the place where my pussy is from top to bottom outside my knickers. Tease. 

His mouth is on my clit before I have time to protest. He has some technique going, gently lapping then varying speed and direction. It is sublime. We move into a 69 position and I get a good look at his cock again. I cannot concentrate on sucking him with his tongue inside me, it is too much. If I swallow him deep he groans and tells me to stop. Yet the feeling of power is addictive; his beautiful dick down my throat. 

We spend the afternoon in pursuit of pleasure ; we cannot help but turn each other on. No sooner have I come from his tongue and we lie side by side panting ; he is fingering me again and I am wet once more. Once he has come he is ready again within minutes. 

He tells me he hasn’t slept with anyone since the last time we did. I say nothing but inside my heart is singing. Each time he tells me to change position from sitting astride him I refuse, it simply feels too good. 

We play so much eventually I’m sore. Lube is administered and his finger probes my ass. I tell him to spank me harder and he does, but shy of how hard I like it. He hooks his finger into my jaw and pulls me down to kiss him; an unusual move that turns me on so much I am surprised. 

“You like it rough then?” He grins. “A little” I respond and smile  to myself. 

The Banking Analyst 

We met for dinner. It wasn’t in the plan but the bar we were supposed to visit was closed for a private party. We ate tapas and talked about boxing, banking and bonking. 

He was French, with a beautiful accent and very large hands. I could not believe this Adonis was available. 

He told me about a sex party he had recently attended, near where he lived out in the wilds of Kent. The picture he painted was pretty sordid – especially the old man getting out of the hot tub and staggering to an empty dance floor. But still I was turned on, the fact he’d tried it and lived to tell the tale. 

We travelled home. He looked huge in my house. He had bright turquoise boxers on. He could remove my bra with one hand. My knickers were soaked through. His mouth and hands danced around them teasing me, pulling a part aside then putting it back. Oh god was this for real? 

It’s hard to remember the details. I came straightaway after his oral attention. He murmured in my ear in French which got me even more excited. His hands were gentle, coaxing my nipples hard and then lapping at them with his tongue. “C’est Bon” 

I mounted him easily and his hands were all over me. Holding me steady on that rod of his. It was so good my head went funny and soon he was telling me he was coming. 

But reader, here is the magic part. He kept going. I kept riding that Gallic member until I exploded too. Until the bed was wet with our sweat. Until my legs ached and I had to climb off. 

Vive Le France! 

The Waiter

It was my first night on holiday, the transfer was late and I was already tired as the heat and the excitement had caught up with me. I wandered around trying to find somewhere to eat – away from the gaudy neon signs, the tatty menus and German tourists. I stumbled on a steakhouse which could have been a US chain – it looked clean and inviting so I entered and took a table for one. 

As is probably always the case for a woman alone in a foreign country, the waiters took a shine to me, my Kindle, what I was reading, where I was from. One in particular asked if he could see me again and we could meet tomorrow after his shift ended. 

He was dark and handsome, looked a little different to the other guys. a good body, cheeky smile and excellent English. His hand touched my shoulder a few times and I shivered at the deliciousness of human contact. 

I was woozy from a little wine and little sleep. Flattered, I couldn’t stop giggling at him. 
I didn’t go back the next night. 

Let’s fast forward to my last night. I was again wandering around trying to find decent food. The place I’d found on GoogleMaps didn’t seem to exist – I ended up back at the steakhouse again, nerves jangling. 

He didn’t see me at first. The other waiters seated me, gave me menus, water and took my order. And then he came up, touched me on the shoulder and asked how I was. He told me he had waited for me the other night. He seemed annoyed with me. I continued my meal, ordered wine. It was awkward. At around 10.30pm he told me he had to go and that I should wait half an hour for him. I ordered a cocktail and tried to look casual. 

An hour later I had ordered the bill, there was no sign of him. Suddenly he appeared in a bright fuschia polo top, changed out of his uniform. “We can go now” he ordered. 

“I need to pay the bill” I spluttered. 

He told me to walk down the road and he would follow me. It was an odd thing to ask but I obeyed and went to sit in one of the areas by the beach. 

At that point another guy propositioned me. Typical. 

My “date” appeared with a bottle of wine and we made our way down onto the beach, sitting on loungers near the sea. 

It was beautiful. A slight breeze blew but the air was still hot. The foamy waves highlighted in the darkness. 

He sat facing me and talked about his failed relationship- his partner was back in Norway with his young children. He looked sad. We drank the wine and and eventually he grabbed my breasts, tried to pull away the fabric of my pants to get inside. To my surprise I was wet, noisily so, as his fingers worked inside me I moved against his fingers. 

He asks if I took tablets to stop babies – I assured him I did. He told me to take my knickers off, and I produced a condom. The moment it was on he looked around guiltily and checked the beach was clear. He told me to lie back on the sun lounger. his lips dived down to my cunt which took me by surprise. he slurped and licked with as much gusto as he had kissed. I had no idea what I tasted like after a week of constantly swimming in the sea, but there were no complaints or protestations. 

At that point the sound of a saxophone: or what I thought was one filled the air. We both froze and sat up. 

There in front of us was a man playing an oboe, or some mournful reed instrument. He leered as I laughed until I cried – the form seemed to be to pay him and accept a rose which he handed to me. You couldn’t make it up. 

Then very quickly he was inside me. I grabbed his arse, his jeans were still on but I could feel a taut, muscular body on top of me. 

As quickly as he began he was grunting into my shoulder and I marvelled at the male body to be able to perform so speedily. 

“you have not come?” he said and began to massage my pussy again, moaning and fingering my clit. 

“no.” I said. 

after the disappointment of such a short fuck my pussy felt dry and his fingers were never going to raise an orgasm. I’d already shut down mentally. 

We made plans to see each other the following night and I swayed home with half a bottle of wine and a wilting red rose. 

I never saw him again.

The Facilities Manager Part 2 

His technique should be patented or trademarked and sold around the world to all men. Actually : no. I want it all to myself.  I have never been with someone so confident and creative. For the second time in my life I was played like a musical instrument with lips and fingers – brushed, plucked and strummed with care. Just as he had stopped playing with me he dragged his finger from ass to clit and then lightly slapped my cunt. 

The next hour was spent in near ecstasy. He would move my legs into positions they hadn’t been before and I would feel his mouth in places that thrilled me. I sat astride his face and blissfully shuddered to orgasm, my legs shaking with pleasure. As I did he played with his cock and I turned back and helped him. 

” I think you want to suck it” he teases and we switch to a 69 position, me facing his cock and him still gorging between my legs. He is huge, I can hardly get my lips around him from the angle I’m at. I climb off him and move to between his legs, admiring him from a better view. I take him in my mouth again and he gently holds my hair out of the way. I deep throat him a couple of times but he stops me and pulls me up to kiss me. 

“What do you want to do?” He asks, planting kisses all over my face. Our tongues dance together, there is an ache inside me. I look deep into his eyes and we rub together, I am soaking and I’m sliding up and down his cock and I could come right now. His hands are on my butt and his lips are on mine and it’s good. Really good. 

We stop and he puts on a condom. I mount him and he slides in straight to my core. It feels like nothing else. He tells me he doesn’t know what I’m doing but it feels amazing. I am doing very little except sliding ever so slowly up and down his cock. He grabs my arse tight, both cheeks and pushes me harder onto him. He starts to thrust into me but I tell him slower. We move like this for what feels like an eternity: each movement heightening and intensifying the orgasm. There is a small interlude when he decides he wants to fuck me from behind : the feeling of his cock at a different angle prompts him to comment how tight I am. 

We come at the same time, me on top of him, him cradling my breasts with both hands. 


He goes to the bathroom to clean up, I retrieve the clothes from the floor. His vest: I slip it on, it smells of him. I look in the mirror – the shape is flattering, my boobs look huge. He comes back in and catches me. I throw it off and apologise. “You can keep it if you want”. I don’t of course. 

Reader, it is a fuck that lasts for five days. I craved his touch so much it drove me crazy. And still do. 

The Facilities Manager 

We are in a cab which he has arranged, speeding through parts of the city I know well. So well I am even pointing out landmarks. I can’t look at him: I am still incredulous that this beautiful man wants to spend time with me. 

In the bar he has presented me with a gift: Turkish delight from his recent trip home. Rose and Lemon – my favourite. We have a couple of drinks in the bar but he will not let me pay for anything – he is the perfect gent. His hands play with my legs, he snuggles against me on the sofa and we compare hand sizes. His are giant. I have butterflies. We hold hands. 

I want him to kiss me. I want him to kiss me in the bar and I look at his lips and he looks at mine but it does not happen. But there is something there. He is too shy. 

Instead he kisses me in the bedroom, on the back of the neck and I melt. I groan with pleasure. I could fall in love so easily with someone like this, someone who is kind. He is gentle and calm and I am intrigued. He has not sent me one dickpic. 

He pulls my dress over my head and I try and unbutton his shirt. He is wearing a white vest and chain which stops me in my tracks: a true Meditteranean man. 

We grapple for a while, with hands, knickers, pants and hair. He kisses me hungrily but tenderly. He smells incredible, I ask him what he is wearing. “One Million” is his reply. His beard brushes my shoulders. 

 I am on my back, he starts to work his way down my body with wet lips. 

“I only just finished my period” I stutter; dreading what I smell and taste like. 

“You will be fine” he says and dives his tongue into my cunt. 

The Policy Advisor part three

We meet again within 5 days; I joke that this is the quickest return fuck I’ve ever had. It is as if we have both discovered some new drug or a magical elixir that we cannot leave alone. He is as flattered as I am. 

We meet at the station – he’s had a day off, I’ve just come from dinner with work colleagues. We get a cab and we are quiet together – it’s a little awkward. 

I don’t know whether to tell him I am on my period, but I’ve taken tablets to stop it. Oh Noresthisterone, friend to sexually active women everywhere. I decide I won’t but if he goes down on me I will discourage him. 

Back at mine we almost follow the same pattern of activity as last time. I go upstairs to tidy my room and call him up. He kisses me, asking me if I’ve missed him. Clothes are removed slowly and his hands brush my pussy, his pants come off. And then we vary it a little. I lie with my head hanging off the bed and he thrusts his cock down my throat, but the angles aren’t quite right and suddenly I am stuck, unable to move and get my head up. I manage to moan for help and he shifts so I’m face to face with his ass. There is nothing to do but tongue it. 

Each time I lick him, the root of his cock twitches and he moans. He asks me what I want and I tell him I want his cock. 


We fit together again, both delighting in the sensations between us. I am on top, he grabs and sucks my breasts and slaps my butt. He drills into me from beneath when I tire and my knees give up. We shift weight and move legs, arms and slow down or speed up in a sexy relay race that neither of us wants to finish. Covered in sweat we tease and goad each other into giving in. It isn’t long before we are both coming together, again. My orgasm lasts longer than seconds; it is unlike any I’ve had before 

He’d always said that he usually struggled to manage a repeat performance. But with me, that goes out of the window. This time whilst gorging on his cock, I explore his ass with my fingers and tongue. He’s talked about wanting to be pegged – but the second time of meeting is too soon. 

Whilst wanking his cock, my left index finger probes his arse, slowly and carefully. His face is calm, adoring even. The bond of trust between us is palpable, the action is intimate and incredibly hot. I realise I have never done this before and I’m glad it is with him. My finger goes all the way to my knuckle and he squirms with delight. 

Soon he is back on top of me, my legs wrap around his tight butt and he strives to pleasure me. His face is covered in sweat, dripping down his chin and he keeps pushing it away, embarrassed. I tell him to fuck me harder and he says that will make him come. I do it anyway and he is taken by surprise – his orgasm overtakes him and I feel his thick cock pumping his come inside me. 

We both lie back and look at the clock. We’ve been at it for two and a half hours. 


The day after I empty my bedroom bin. The second condom contains more than a spoonful of come and is covered in blood. But he never commented. Bloody hell. 

The Policy Advisor part deux 

The evening does not end there reader. It is only fair that I now pay attention to him.

And what a beautiful cock! In the flesh it is long and hard and as it was on the pictures he begrudgingly sent; a thin line of hair running from it up to his chest then an explosion of hair which is glorious. And as I gaze up at him with it in my mouth his arms rest behind his head as he lies back and enjoys my sucking. 

I spend a lot of time gauging its size with my mouth, working out what he likes. I also tease his ass with my finger, something which sends a tremor down his cock and makes it stiffen. Thrilling for both of us. I find my comfort zones and sometimes he holds my head gently and thrusts himself into my mouth in a non-threatening way which gets me super hot. 

He murmurs praise. He is enjoying it, and i have no desire to stop or feel his come in my mouth, not yet. I enjoy widening my mouth and slowly taking the length as far as I can until my nose is buried in his stomach. 

I pull up to take a breath and tell him to fuck me. 


It is as if his cock has been designed to fit my cunt perfectly. Each time we move together it is a delicious prolonged arc of pleasure. There is no urgency to the endeavours: we are suspended in time both incredulous at our bodies synchronicity. His cock is not huge, I do not feel full. But there is something about its size or angle that sends both of us into transports of delight. 

His hands explore my breasts, my ass – his tongue flicks around my nipples. He knows what to do somehow….. As if he has read the script already. I can’t stop grinning. 

Eventually we come together. On a first date. Not bad eh?