Two guys one night

I’m more than a little tipsy. A friend is in town from Germany and I don’t want to follow him into town when I’m so close to my ends. I make my excuses and leave the party, not really realising until the air hits me how much I’ve drunk.

It seems to be a good idea to phone one of the guys in my little black book: he’s been messaging me, is at a club and wants me to join him. I check and there are no tickets left. Damn, that would have been a lot of fun.

I try another guy who I haven’t met yet. He leaps at the chance. I order a drink at the bar and wait for him to join. Except he doesn’t – he’s driving and can’t park. I swallow another drink down and run to meet his car.

Back at mine we smoke, sitting side by side. He tells me about his swinging experiences and I grab his leg. I love listening to other people’s stories. Soon we are upstairs and he’s biting my chest, nuzzling my neck and grabbing me in all the right places. He’s got both nipples pierced and as we roll around I enjoy tonguing the tiny silver hoops. He leaps enthusiastically between my legs and with an expert tongue slides up and down my lips while fingering my clit. He knows what he’s doing. We try a 69 but he can’t sustain it. He’s soon making up for it by fingering my pussy with quite a vigorous pace. Very quickly I’m riding his dick and coming. The shock of this impromptu encounter is quite something and I’ve surprised myself by my orgasm. I see him out, like the good hostess and I lie back down under the covers to keep warm.

An hour later, the first guy calls. His club is finished and he wants to come over. Asks if I mind if he brings cigarettes. Christ – can I really do this?

By now, I’m a little more sober. The lounge stinks of smoke, I light some incense and quickly wash. I can still smell cheap aftershave on me. More perfume. Make the bed. Hide the condom. Put different clothes on, this time I’m making no effort. What have I become?

X arrives, seemingly high as a kite. Shows me all the videos of his evening. Spills beer all over the floors (he did this last time too) We smoke together and he gets out his cock. It’s a good one and I smile as I tease him by just holding it as he squeezes my tits together and licks them.

In my bedroom we fall into the familiar routine, he ignores my cunt completely and I focus on inhaling his dick. I mean, I really do enjoy it but I’d love his lips on my pussy just once. I’m soaked anyway, ready to ride and he knows it. He saddles up and I climb on top of him. There is something about his dick that fits perfectly. He knows now not to hammer me into oblivion, but take it slow and sensual. It feels even better this time. We slowly grind hips together and he blows on my nipples to make them harden, licking them just to make sure.

We come together as he growls in my ear, asking if he can squirt inside me. It’s an odd phrase but it does the job, for now.

The Art Director again

So here he is after a few false starts. I can’t work him out and he can’t work me out. I decide a glass of wine and a chat before moving to the bedroom and he likes the idea. He sits on the sofa and I hand him a glass of red. Of course, he’s better looking than my rusty memory provides – it’s been over a month since he last came over.

A few pleasantries are exchanged and he asks me to sit next to him. I obey, like a good girl. I’m wearing stockings and suspenders just for him and I twirl so he can see before I plonk myself down. His hand goes on my knee and he moves mine to his crotch. His jeans are taught and I stroke gently, feeling him grow harder through the denim. It’s horny, especially as my other hand still has a glass of wine in it. But he speeds things up and unbuckles his belt – he can’t wait can he?

He pulls his jeans right down and pulls out his cock. Beautiful. I kneel between his legs and tease it with my lips and tongue. Red lipstick all over it.


Upstairs he completely undresses and lies on the bed. He still hasn’t touched me. We kiss and I’m on top of him, I pull aside my knickers and ask him to touch me. I’m soaked. I try sliding up and down his cock without penetration but he grabs a condom. Okay then!

I ride him with my knickers pulled aside. I’m still wearing my cowboy boots and it feels fucking sexy. But our rhythm is off, we don’t co-ordinate and soon he loses it.

I try and suck him with the condom on – it doesn’t work so he removes it. I go hard and deep on his dick and soon he’s hard again. Back I go to ride him. Again, we almost clash in rhythm.

And the insecurities set in – stuff like –

Why doesn’t he ever touch my pussy?

Why does he want to fuck me so quick without forplay?

Why do I like him so much?

Why can’t I come?

Why can’t I let go?

How long has he got?


He comes, rather triumphantly in my mouth. I don’t make a habit of this at all, but I seem to have done it twice in one week.

When I stop he makes no effort to finish me off. We lie and chat for ages and then we fuck again.

The sex isn’t as great as it was the first time – for some reason it doesn’t have any spark. But it’s definitely better than the second time and he seem to have got a better vibe, he’s laughing and joking.

Before he leaves he shows me a dickpic he’s quite proud of. He’s an art director of course, he would be.

As he’s searching I tell him no woman wants to see an angry veiny postbox of a penis and it makes him laugh. I tell him I actually like ones of flaccidity – or if erect definitely with a hand included gripping it. His one is sideways on, blurred background and quite beautiful and I tell him to send it to “”.

We also discuss just using an emoji if we are horny and want to fuck – he’s 10 minutes away for gods sake.

I look forward to receiving 😈 very soon.

The Enterprise Consultant again

Here I am, hurtling towards the west of the city again. He’s told me his room number and told me the champagne is on ice. I’ve had a terrible day and this seems to me like the best way to forget it.

This time his room is smaller – not as flashy or luxurious. We kiss and embrace and I wince a little. I don’t fancy him at all, but I can use him – right?

We quickly get our swimming gear and head down to the spa. This time the changing room is full and it dampens my excitement. I meet him in the warm pool and we head for the jacuzzi part, hoping to rekindle the excitement of last time.

But the power button isn’t working and it’s hard to fumble with each other in static water. We climb out and head for the steam room. It’s hot and sexy and we chat a little, touching each other. We head back into the pool and then back to his room.

I get him to open the champagne as I really need a drink. I guess I’m not as excited as last time when he teased me all day. I’m also at the tail end of my period so super conscious about how I might taste and feel.

As a result when he goes down on me I can’t come. But I do enjoy wrapping my legs around his neck and him burying his whole face into my most intimate parts.

And I enjoy going down on him. I’d forgotten he has a little fold of skin at the top of his penis, like an extra bit. I like feeling him hard in my mouth and him thrusting deeper down my throat. So much so that I want him inside me. I ride his cock and make him grab and lick my nipples which I love.

He comes almost straight away. We chat and drink champagne and tell each other secrets. It’s nice this bit. He’s already checked if I’m staying and nuzzles into my back saying he likes me to do that. I guess he’s lonely.

We turn each other on by talking about recent sexual experiences: the night before he’d gone to meet a couple in a dodgy hotel but the woman rejected him.

Soon he’s hard again and I take him in my mouth. He’s not too big and not too small so its easy to spend a lot of time with him in my mouth and very quickly he’s coming right down my throat.

The MySpace Star

Yeah. I’m about to fuck someone who is almost half my age. We’ve had phone sex, me for the first time in ages, and less willing but its fun. My god he knows exactly what to say as well. It’s like he’s lifted the words from my brain: “take my cock”. And we haven’t even met yet.

He lives about half an hour from me and has pushed for a Sunday morning meet. I’m horny as a devil and on my period so I’ve used my faithful friend the Flex and let him know. He’s cool as fuck.

I meet him in the local Starbucks for safety. I might be older than him but I play by my rules now. The queue is long and I giggle as I wait for him to collect me a Flat White. He sits opposite me and chats about his journey, his energy and keenness to meet me. I don’t even finish the coffee and take him back.

Upstairs we claw at each other and I kiss him with a hunger that surprises me. The last encounter I had was so disappointing I’m hoping for a lot more. His body is slight with hair in all the places I like – chest and stomach and beard. His eyes, goddamn his eyes are so intense.

I reach into his pants and feel his cock while he gets to work on my breasts. How is this boy so intuitive?

For some reason I’ve already decided I want to actually get into bed with him rather than fuck on top of it. Maybe its his age that makes me want to – its there like a glaring neon sign in the room HE’S YOUNGER THAN YOU but its also a massive turn on.

We climb into bed in just our underwear and he starts to kiss me again. Oh golly am I in heaven?

I feel like I almost don’t need to write anything else: just insert GIF’s of trains going into tunnels, waves crashing on a shore and champagne corks popping.

As I’ve mentioned previously I was despairing of the late 30’s male. The 35-38 year olds in particular who seemed to have no seduction skills, little idea of what to do with a woman’s body and come complete with drink and self esteem issues.

This guy breezes through them all, smashing all my preconceptions and making me come hard three times in a couple of hours. As soon as I ride his perfectly formed cock I’m gone within 5 minutes. He seems to know exactly how to nibble my breasts enough to send me over the edge. After deep-throating it a few times and him asking me to “take his cock” which for some reason hits all the buttons he fingers me with an intensity I’ve not felt before. He’s gentle, considerate and doesn’t make me do anything I don’t want to.

We lie chatting between rounds, he’s funny polite and totally open. He tells me he used to do drugs every weekend but is now clean, barely drinks and doesn’t even have coffee. And they say the youth is fucked – the absolute opposite dear friends.

Then he lets out the MySpace klaxon.

It’s too funny, all I can think of is “the readers will lap this up”.


As he pulls on his trousers and belts up I realise how skinny his legs are. He’s like a little indie kid, 20 years too late and my 28 year old self kicks my now old self. I’m very tempted to ask him to stay forever, but I can’t.