His kink 

He stands over me, looking down. I’m wedged in the bath, less body conscious than I thought I’d be. Damn my legs look good. He doesn’t have his cock in his hand like I expected but leans over the side. He’s probably too hard to do it just now.

We chat a bit, I try and make him feel comfortable and not look him in the eye. I should probably be wanking but I’m not. 

I can see a droplet of liquid at the end of his cock but it won’t come. I reach up to coax it out and it disappears. He tells me I’ve scared it off. I tell him about the last time I tried this and the guy came over me instead. We both laugh as he asked me how on earth that could happen. He relaxes. 

And then suddenly a tiny spurt drips into the bath, only hitting my wrist. It’s warm and thin, not as torrential as I expected. I’m giggling. He’s giggling. 

He’s got stage fright. Understandable – this is his kink but I share it. But he won’t let me do it on him. Fair enough. 

We chat a bit more and talk about how face pee-ing is gross. Not for us. 

Suddenly another stream hits my stomach, hot and wet. Now he aims it, over my pussy, my arms and stomach. Light spatters hit my face. It smells of coffee. There is a lot of it. 

He’s disappointed, a little let down.  We discuss how he enjoyed the feeling of power, standing over me like that. But embarassment about his stage fright- apparently the same happens at the urinal. He offers to wash me and there’s laughter as I reach for the shower head and clean myself off, slipping about ungracefully with a too-hot tap. 

Another Turk 

We are in a private members club, sitting almost at the bar because we’ve been told the back area is reserved for a party. He’d warned me that he’d be kissing me within 15 minutes if he wanted to take things further, however he’s spooked by our public position and apologises.

I, on the other hand am oddly buoyed by this scenario.  It reminds me of another one in which I was the hunted. But this time, somehow I have the upper hand. Cocky, confident and ridiculously brazen. His cock bulges in his suit trousers as he said it would. And of course I brush my hand across it, driving him wild. He tells me to kiss him but I make him kiss me and I pull away first.

We have discussed hotels nearby but he isn’t giving anything away. I am meant to be going on to a private view and then meeting him afterwards but that plan fades away. And then he says the magic words ” Why don’t I come back to yours?” which I hadn’t even considered, stupidly.

On the tube I challenge him to tell me who he’d fuck in the carriage we are in. We choose the same girl. She has dark hair, a slim frame and hair piled in a bun in an “I don’t give a fuck” kind of way. She is beautiful, and too good for the guy she’s with.


We’d talked about me taking off my knickers in the bar and handing them to him in a ball. I don’t do it in the bar, but return from the bathroom with them in my fist, tucking them into his trouser pocket. He fishes them out and exclaims how damp they are. And so it begins.

His cock is better than his pictures, it has a girth and a weight to it that I love. It’s easy to take it in my mouth and enjoy the noises and twitches he makes. It’s easy to lick and suck his balls and make him cry out in pleasure. It’s easy to feel his tongue on my clit and go into raptures. It’s all very easy and very familiar and exciting for the first time in a while – there is no mundanity to what we are doing. And he is so grateful, he tells me he’s never had it so good.

We keep going for over two hours, exploring each others bodies and discovering new waves of pleasure. Sadly putting on a condom makes him soft so we work around it and he makes me come once by licking and the second by fingering me – my new favourite cum method.

He leaves still smelling of sex, my hands are still slick with his juice and mine. He can come again.


The Architect 

He calls me three times before we meet the first time – twice on the designated day. It’s sweet and a novelty but also freaks me out a bit. It’s just not the done thing for a hook-up is it? 
I’m walking to the pub and he calls me again, asking where I am. We meet outside and he embraces me like an old friend – a proper body hug for longer than I’m used to even with a friend. And you know me. I’m intimacy-averse yet perfectly happy to open my legs or my lips for a strangers cock. 

We chat and he’s charming but I’m worried I don’t fancy him enough for it to happen. I can’t read him- I have no idea if he wants me. 

I wish this bit was easier. Is it easier if you are looking for a relationship? Is it ever easy? 

The camera cuts to later – I have fixed him a drink and we are both on my sofa. I decide I really like his voice : the way he speaks, the words he uses and his accent. He is intelligent and seems genuinely interested in me. He asks good questions. Jesus, this is beginning to sound like an interview. 

His “move” is to put his legs across mine – which is a weird one. Maybe I was supposed to do that. 

We then hit fast forward as the reader you’re asking yourself where’s the fucking sex? 

Okay okay. 

We go up. We undress. He’s an under the covers guy. His frame is tiny. His lips and fingers are soon lapping my cunt and I am climbing on top of him. I’m too self conscious though… But it’s good. 

He pushes the tip of his cock in and out of my pussy. That sir, always drives me wild. I have to tell him to use a condom. 

I come at some point, it isn’t a struggle. He comes over my tits, a wonderful warm gift I receive with thanks. 

We’ve talked a lot about him staying, instead he leaves after checking his route home more than once. Annoyingly so – if he leaves now it will take an hour – in the morning much longer. 

I sleep really well anyway. 

Le Retour

Four long months. We were both busy I guess. But it hurt. I craved him badly; other partners came and went but none could match him; no – us. 

On the morning of our meet he texts me to say he is so hard under the desk at work he can’t get up. It shocks me – I’m surprised I have that effect I guess, even after all this time. 

He arrives and it’s like he’s coming home : to my lips, my tits, my cunt.

He’s wearing light gray suit trousers – I comment on how nice they are. He tells me they are new. I unbuckle his belt and sit on the bed. He reaches for my cunt and rubs it, watching me. I arch my back and fall back on the bed. He slides my dress up and kisses my thighs, my knees, my pussy over my knickers. 

I take his cock in my mouth and he keeps saying “oh yes” as I slide myself down its length. He pulls it out of the way and motions for me to give his balls some attention. I don’t need asking twice. I switch positions on the bed and spin round to be underneath him so he can pump his cock into my mouth and play with me at the same time. Our heights are so uneven it doesn’t work for long. We switch again and he slaps my face, my breasts and my pussy. I am lost, in a sea of pleasure rolling towards me, submersing my toes and washing back and forth. 

We are a mess of spit, spunk, come and sweat. He fingers me as I suck his cock, half crouching, him half standing over me. He lets me sit on his face and I enjoy the hair on his top lip grinding against my pussy lips.  I come as he fingers me – exploding like a firework as I suck his cock and his fingers strum my clit. I lose myself with him so utterly I don’t care who I am or where we are. He circles my asshole with his finger, spits and then slides a digit in. I reciprocate by biting his nipples and sucking them. He comes on my tits and we lie back, bathed in sweat and the evening sun. 

We chat for a bit and soon he is caressing me again: we fire up the horse again and I ride it. Then he flips me over and fucks me from behind. I’m in an awkward position but I enjoy being overpowered by him. 

We both try to come again – this time he wins and groans as I grind on him. 

“Putain” I say.