The Van Man

We’ve been chatting for a good 7 months, trying to find a good time to meet. Okay, okay: we were meant to be having a threesome. With holidays, other commitments it got difficult. So we end up meeting just one on one. I have a day off, he’s working nearby. It falls into place easily. 

We meet at my local pub, a terrifying venue which is mainly men. In fact I’m one of two women. I get many leery looks when I go to the bar, I decide to ignore all of them and sit outside. 

He bounds in not long after. We laugh and joke and I make it very clear he’s welcome to come back to mine. I jump in his van and he drives me round to my road. He’s a painter and decorator, runs his own business. I don’t have one of those in my black book and I let him know he’ll have to take a look at my place. 

I dash to the loo and return to find him standing in the bedroom gazing out the window. I slip my arms around him from behind and reach into his pants. He’s got a very healthy package. 

I kneel before him and try and take the length, he groans and grabs my tit. I take my bra off and my skirt. He pulls everything off and I lie back on the bed. He pulls aside my knickers and laps. He buries his face in my pussy, his hair massing around his face making him look like a Jack Russell with ears. It’s delicious and I seriously regret fucking myself to orgasm earlier with a bullet vibe. His technique is a delight. He tells me he is afraid of coming too soon and asks for a condom. 

He enters me from behind and his length is breathtaking, it feels pretty good inside me. He grabs my cheeks and I tell him to look in the mirror at us. He keeps stopping, telling me he’s close to coming. I instruct him to reach around and play with my clit. That for him is the end, he comes and tells me he has – apologising profusely. 

Unlike those who have gone before him I don’t mind. Before he leaves he gives me a quick price for decorating two rooms and I fuck myself again with the doxy before he’s even driven out of my road.