Disappointment from V . . .

Since our lunch the previous week, I’d been really looking forward to meeting with V again on Tuesday, especially as our two meetings before Christmas had been so wonderful and fulfilling. But . . .

I’d had a waxing on Monday after work, and had brought in a complete change of clothes into the office the next morning. The day was already dragging by when just after 11 my secretary called through to say he was on the line. I could tell immediately from his voice that he was going to cancel . . . and sure enough, “something has come up that I just can’t change”.

I can’t go into his explanations here, but anyway, our evening was not to be . . .

A hugely disappointing start to the week . . . and what makes it even more disappointing is that he now won’t be back in London for at least another month!!

Relaxing Sunday . . .

Nice morning at the gym yesterday. J and I joined R at his table in the cafe afterwards and chatted about his holiday. (He'd been back home for New Year).

J was being very suggestive about how much all the ladies must have missed him.
I could tell R was uncomfortable, and I was kicking J under the table in my annoyance.

R made his apologies quite quickly and said he had to start his next shift. I told J he had been silly and embarrassing . . . (but I felt quite tingly as well).

J and I had the house to ourselves in the afternoon and spent a few hours "cuddling" and dozing and cuddling and dozing. It was really lovely and relaxing. I told J that I'd needed it, and deserved it. He said he'd needed it and deserved it as well !

He'll probably complain later in the week though . . . I didn't get any ironing done !!

Best wishes - Edith

I apologise . . .

Thank you for all the comments . . . and messages . . . regarding my Mrs Robinson post.

It seems I did not properly research my subject thoroughly enough (forgetting the first rule of marketing!!).

Yes, Mrs Robinson is apparently on record as making some very anti-homosexuality remarks . . . and as many of you have RIGHTLY pointed-out, there should be not be ANY sympathy for someone making such stupid, and unjust, and in-humane, comments.

My previous entry was NOT MEANT in any way to defend such comments, nor to defend her apparent abuse of her position to influence business contacts in regard to loans etc. etc.

Mistakes, we all make them (and I admit I made one in my lack of research), however those in public office SHOULD be expected to be much more prudent and circumspect in the way they conduct their affairs (no pun intended!!!).

Though I still feel sadness for her family, I will NOW get-down off MY OWN high-horse, and apologise for my lack of forethought, and retract my declarations of sympathy.

I could, of course, delete the previous post . . . but that would be tantamount to trying to destroy the evidence of my own errors of judgement (of which of course there have been many, but possibly few so public).

Humbly yours - Edith

Mrs Robinson

I’ve had numerous messages over the past few days mentioning the predicament that Iris Robinson and her husband have found themselves in. (For overseas readers: Both Ministers in the Northern Ireland assembly).

Many of the messages have been quite scathing and critical of her actions, and asking my opinion given my “Spur of the Moment Moment” last June.

I do understand (from personal experience), how she could find the attentions of a younger man exciting, and arousing . . . I certainly did . . . and, of course, we ALL make mistakes, and errors of judgement in both our personal, and business, life.

So I do sympathise with her on that level. I know that I always enjoyed looking at R’s body during our gym work-outs, and I know I was very flirtatious with him, and enjoyed his attentions and his responses. Of course, my situation was made even more exciting by the fact that J was always pointing out how obvious it was that R “fancied me”. And when I unexpectedly found myself with the opportunity to “indulge” in that spur of the moment meeting, I found it tremendously flattering, and exciting, and arousing . . . so much so, that I couldn’t, or didn’t even want to resist his advances. The opportunity presented itself and it just happened.

In actuality, it wasn’t wonderfully fulfilling . . . but it WAS flattering and exciting. So, in that respect, I can understand how Mrs Robinson may have found herself in a similar situation, and a similar frame of mind, and just succumbed to that spontaneous sexual combustion that sometimes just happens inside ALL of us. And I don’t care how many people say they would NEVER do that sort of thing . . . I KNOW that every one of us, have, or will, at some time or another, find that uncontrollable biological urge that makes us forget all reason and morality and danger. I TRULY believe that. No matter what your religion, gender or position (or perhaps sometimes BECAUSE of the moral pressures of your religion, gender or position) we will ALL at some point succumb to that special release, or temptation.

I admit that I enjoy occasionally succumbing to those temptations . . . I enjoy being able to forget for brief moments in time my responsibilities to family and friends. BUT I do realise that at least I am able to release myself to those flattering and exciting feelings from time to time, because of the wonderful relationship I share with my husband. Mrs Robinson, unfortunately, probably felt she wouldn’t be able to share those feelings with the person closest to her . . . and that is what I feel is the saddest aspect of her situation. Not that she found herself indulging in something exciting and different and forbidden, but that she felt that the only way she could indulge in that relationship, was to do it secretly, behind her husbands back.

And, I am sure that it is because of that moral, personal, pressure she must have felt that she could only continue her excitement, and affair, in SECRET and without SHARING it with her husband, that she suddenly found the situation spiralling into the other unfortunate aspects of the situation she found herself in. Arranging a loan for her young lover, using her political position to convince unknowing friends or associates to help this young man get a start in life. She just, very probably, felt it all spinning quickly out of control in the course of a few weeks. Things that may have been said, or promised, in the heat of a few passionate evenings that were helping her forget the pressures of her political and family life, just suddenly grew into much more than she would ever have imagined.

Of course, being in the position she was, perhaps she should have considered things much more carefully. BUT she probably had NO-ONE she felt she could turn to, no-one she could share her feelings, her guilt, her worries with.

It is terribly sad for her husband, and his political career, and for her family . . . sad for EVERYONE involved. But I challenge all the people who are getting on their high-horse and saying that in her position she “should have known better” . . . I challenge all of them just to stop and reflect for a moment, and think to themselves . . . and ADMIT to themselves . . . that somewhere in their past, at some point, or instance, in their lives . . . have they not felt a spontaneous, sexual moment, lead them to somewhere they never dreamed they would go.

I pray for Mrs (and Mr) Robinson . . . not for their political careers, but for their personal well-being. I wish them hope . . . and happiness.

Best wishes - Edith

Snowy Sleep-over with S . . .

The weeks prior to the Christmas break had been really hectic and not practical, for one reason or another, to meet up with S. We’d discussed tentative dates on numerous occasions (we talk regularly as S calls me several mornings a week when I’m on my way in to the office) but family, or work events, always seemed to conflict.

We were finally able to agree on the Monday evening before Christmas. Initially we were to meet in Hampstead at our normal Italian, but as I was freshening-up in the office S texted to ask me to call. Everyone in the office had earlier been looking out the windows as snow had started falling, but from our office several floors up it hadn’t looked like settling and I’d thought nothing more about it. But S was now telling me that “traffic was a nightmare” and that out in the suburbs it certainly was settling and causing major problems. He suggested that instead of getting a taxi I should get a tube and he’d meet me at the station. Even as I left the office and walked to the tube the snow didn’t seem to be settling and the traffic appeared to be moving as it normally does in the West End. But, just as I was about to descend into the station S called again. Traffic was so bad he was going to try to drive straight to the hotel and said I should take a different branch and get off at the Station which was nearer to our hotel, and he’d meet me there.

It wasn’t until I actually reached my destination and got out to street level that I realised the problems he’d been having. The traffic was backed-up in a long line stretching in both directions all the way along the road and whilst it seemed as though the road itself had been gritted, the side roads and the pavements certainly hadn’t. S was nowhere to be seen . . . I called and he answered immediately, saying he’d managed to park at the hotel and had started walking to meet me. I set-off in the direction of the hotel, cursing under my breath that my boots were clearly not ideal footwear for the slippery pavements. I was not the only one struggling amidst quite a crowd of people gingerly making their way along the footpath. I’d been walking about ten minutes, with several pauses to call, or answer calls from S to liaise on each others progress, before we met. As we retraced his footsteps back towards the hotel we crossed over several side-roads which rose up on what would normally seem quite gentle inclines from the main road, but the cold and lack of gritting meant that the ice was causing the cars trying to get in or out to slide treacherously. The snow had stopped falling by the time we reached the hotel, but it was clear that the main intersection on the corner was almost completely grid-locked.

The lobby was warm and welcoming and as soon as we got to our room I collapsed onto the bed and told S I’d love to have a bath. As he started running the water I browsed through the room service menu and suggested we order some food to “snack on . . . and a large bottle of wine!” He made the call as I undressed and slid into the warmth and bubbles of my bath. He sat next to me and joked that the carpark downstairs had looked “frozen-solid” when we’d arrived back. I’d texted J whilst S had been running the bath. There’d been no reply but now as soaked my phone beeped. S brought it over to me. It was J asking me to call if I could. I phoned him straight back, I knew he’d been working out in Essex and was now worried if he’d managed to get home yet. He hadn’t, he was close to home but stuck in a tail-back and traffic wasn’t moving at all. He suggested it might be easier if I “stayed put for the night”. S’s face beamed when I told him what J was suggesting. (I hadn’t stayed out for “a sleepover” since I’d stopped seeing M two years ago. J had never actually said he didn’t like me doing it, but I “know” that he much prefers me to come home, so . . . )

I told S it was still early yet, and that the snow had stopped, and although it wouldn’t be a problem for me to “have a late meeting and have to stay in town” for the evening, how would he explain it to his wife??? I wrapped myself in a towel and sat on the toilet seat whilst he showered. He turned on the television, whilst we waited for room service, to see what the weather forecast for the evening was. Sure enough the “traffic chaos” as all over the news. We continued to watch after our food and wine arrived, it seemed bizarre to be sitting together . . . wrapped in our towels, snacking and sipping . . . watching TV !!!

It was already getting quite late. I slid my hand under his towel, he was soft . . . but warm. I asked “what are you going to do? You’d better call if you want to be staying all night”. He got up and walked to the window to peek out of the curtains. The window looked directly down to one of the busiest roads in North London. He said traffic was moving but still backed-up for miles. He picked-up his phone and called home. I could tell from the conversation that he was talking to one of his children, his wife was watching “her program” and wouldn’t come to the phone. I couldn’t believe it! But could tell that S was relieved to be able to ask that his son pass on the message that he’d be “staying overnight in Central”.

He bounced back onto the bed reaching for my towel, but I held it tight telling him he first had to make sure his phone was turned on to voicemail and the volume was turned off. We slid into an embrace for a few minutes, he was quite erect now, and I enjoyed slapping him gently on it as I told him to get back up and turn the TV and the main room lights off. As he got back onto the bed he told me he’d wanted to spend a whole night with me for years . . . and although I didn’t answer, other than to reach up to meet his kiss . . . I felt myself tingling with excitement as well.

His hand slid down between my legs and he pulled away a little to start kissing and sucking at my breasts. I was moaning already, and feeling really aroused as he slid his tongue around my nipples and his fingers were rubbing over my pussy. I opened my legs wider for him and gasped as I felt his fingers sliding in. He does such lovely things with his fingers . . . we adjusted ourselves on the bed as he slid further down to start following his fingers with his tongue. I was whispering him to “eat me” and holding his head gently as it bobbed up and down on me as his tongue flicked and licked, and his fingers pushed and probed. I lifted his hand up to my mouth to suck three fingers in and swirl my tongue around them. “This many?” I asked as I pushed them back down to my pussy again. He groaned that he knew I “could take more”.

I was writhing and bucking against his hand . . . he had it cupped so that his fingers were stroking in and out whilst his palm and wrist were rubbing over my clit . . . I could feel it sliding and scraping, and his fingers sliding and pushing. He pulled away and then knelt in between my legs. I reached down to hold him and guide his cock into me. He had a hand on each of my knees and I could see him looking straight down at my pussy. “Can you see my button?” I asked him as I reached down with my fingers and held my lips open with one hand whilst I rubbed round and round with the other. I was coming with little shudders as he stroked in and out . . . until I couldn’t take it any longer and had to push him gently away and roll over onto my tummy.

He got up off the bed and I continued to rock myself from side to side. “Incredible” he said as he knelt back beside me. I nodded and groaned into the pillow as though he was asking me a question . . . but then shivered with the feel of his fingers sliding slippery gel between my legs. “God let me get my breath back!” I turned back to look at him. He lay down behind me kissing my shoulder and neck, and stroking my back and bottom. He apologised that he’d just got carried away. We lay for awhile. I turned my head to lay on the other cheek so that I could see him, and reached down to start stroking him as we chatted. He was still hard, really hard and smooth. I cupped my hand and asked him for some gel and then lifted myself up on one elbow so that I could slide it up and down on him. He leant forward as I lay myself back down onto the bed, pulling the pillow down under my chest for support. His fingers felt wet and slippery sliding over my pussy and then up between my cheeks. I felt him kneeling up between my legs as I let myself twist on his fingers pushing up into my pussy again. I could feel the fingers of his other hand playing with me where he wanted to be, and then the hardness of him sliding over my cheek.

I so, so wanted to make up to him for the last time we’d met, and the excitement of our “night together” and the wonderful feelings of his fingers sliding round in front of me, made me feel more aroused and more wanton. I was completely engulfed by the moment, and heard myself telling him “come on, come on” as we rocked back and forth against each other. His fingers were everywhere . . . one hand pinching at my lips, the other reaching up to my nipples. I lifted myself up to then squash them down on the palm of his hand and then lifting again to let him scrape it across to the other nipple . . . and then back again. I could feel myself going to come again, trying to hold against it, sliding one hand down to clamp it over his knuckles as he still played with my pussy, whilst I reached with my other hand round behind us trying to hold his hip and push against him, urging him deeper into me whilst we tried to balance against each other as we each continued our thrusting and pushing. I couldn’t hold it any longer and fell forward gasping and groaning as we came apart. I heard him gasping as well and then felt him splashing it over me for an instant before his weight pushed me down onto the bed. Our writhing and convulsions continued as we rolled together on our sides, him pulling me back into his chest and then rocking forwards again to roll back on top of me. We rolled apart with final moans of satisfaction and then he cuddled into me again, kissing me on my shoulder and neck as before.

We lay not moving or talking, for ages and ages, just each breathing heavily, before I lifted up and rolled over to cuddle into him. I joked that normally by now he’d having to be waking me up to start getting ready to make our way home. I got up to stagger to the bathroom, and then asked him to turn back the sheets so that we could get into bed “properly”. I picked up the wine from the table on my return and stood next to him topping up our glasses before climbing in beside him. “At least you can have a drink tonight” I said. He replied that being able to have a drink was the very least exciting thing about being able to spend the night with me. We sat back beside each other, pulling the sheets up around ourselves, sipping at our wine and chatting more about each of our family arrangements for Christmas. I snuggled down onto his chest after I’d emptied my glass and we talked more of the coming weekend. His hands began to wander again, but I told him I was feeling “really nice and comfy. I just want cuddles now, I can’t do anymore of that tonight! Just be thankful we can cuddle together all night”.

“I love having my cunt licked in the morning!” I whispered to him as I looked down at him. We’d woken together and I’d felt his erection against my thigh before he pulled the sheets half off us and slid down the bed beside me. I stroked his hair as he rolled over me and onto his tummy between my legs. He continued his kissing and licking, pulling away to let me push both my hands down between us so that I could slide my lips apart for him. When he leant forward again I felt his tongue pushing hard over me, sliding down to push inside and then moving back up over my clit again. “Oh, I really like that” I told him. It did feel nice, really nice, but I wanted him inside me. I lifted myself up to start pulling him up on me and he just seemed to slide upwards in one movement, his chest sliding over mine and as his chin and lips met mine in a lovely wet and passionate kiss, his erection just guided itself in as if all in one movement. “Ohh” I gasped into his ear as I locked my legs around his bottom. It was lovely as he balanced himself over me with his hands either side of me onto the bed, and I leant up into him with my chin resting on his shoulder and my arms around his back.

The rhythm of his rocking began increasing, getting quicker and quicker, and his moans getting louder and louder. I could hear him gasping and pulling away and out, and then pushing forward, his willy rubbing up over my pussy. I let myself slide further down, still hanging onto him in our sling position, but feeling his cock sliding back and forth over my tummy. I looked down between us and as he thrust forward again with a loud groan, I saw, and then felt, a huge spurt as it splashed out over my tummy. More spurts followed, one after the other, as he swung forwards against me again . . . then as our arms gave way, he fell forwards onto me, our tummies squelching and sliding together. He was gasping with loud groans . . . and I was giggling with first the satisfaction of seeing and hearing him like that . . . and then with the ticklish sensation of his come dribbling and sticking on me as he rolled off me onto his side. We were both laughing now with the mess he’d made, but I had to jump up searching for one of our towels from the floor as the cold air and the dribbling on my skin was making me more ticklish. I dried myself off and then spread the towel out on the bed before lying down next to him. “Happy?” I asked him. “Just the best” was his reply.

We showered and lounged, taking turns to peek out through the curtains at the roads below. No snow, traffic moving freely. We agreed it would be more civilised to go down for breakfast, rather than ordering room service again, though I felt uncomfortable that I didn’t have a change of clothes or underwear. They told us that they had a man clearing the carpark so that cars could get out, and S said he’d take me home so that I could change before work (the hotel is only a few miles from home). But I told him I could hardly walk in on my daughter having her breakfast when I was supposed to have stayed overnight in the West End!. I had spare knickers in my drawer at the office, and was trying to convince myself that that would be perfectly fine . . . but I had no choice, I just couldn’t go home. I sent a text to J to tell him everything was fine and that S would take me to the station. His text back was “can’t wait to hear about it”.

Once we were out of the carpark the roads were actually fine . . . it seemed unbelievable that there had been such chaos the previous night. But as S dropped me off at the Station and we exchanged our goodbye kisses, he said “I wish it would snow like that more often !!”

Best wishes - Edith

Best Wishes for the New Year !!!

Thank you for all your Christmas emails and suggestive suggestions(!!!)

For those who have asked . . . Yes I did see S before Christmas, and I will try and post in the next few days. It seems such a long time ago now though, and with the memories of the evening not being so fresh in my mind, I probably won’t be able to recount all the details very clearly.

We’ve had a lovely, but hectic Christmas weekend. It was our turn to host this year so had J’s brother and sister-in-law and children staying for two nights, as well as both our parents for a night each as well.

I’m looking forward to an early night and a few days of peace with J and the children on our own now though! Although J is back to work tomorrow, I’m not starting back until the following Tuesday . . . bliss !!!

Wishing you all a happy and exciting 2010 !!!

Best wishes - Edith

Sunday Afternoon Rendezvous . . .

For everyone who has asked . . .

Yes I did !!! J had got me so worked-up by telling me how naughty it would be, and how it would the last opportunity to see V this year, and how much he knew that I wanted to do it.

And he was right . . . the more he talked about it on Saturday afternoon and evening (and what an evening!!) the more I thought about it, and the more excited I became.

And when my son announced he would be going out again catching-up with his friends, I felt a huge, releasing rush of excitement. The guilt had been released . . . our son didn’t want to be stuck at home eating Sunday dinner with his family anyway. I texted V to ask him to text back when he’d landed, and that I’d “pop-over the river for an hour or so”.

I found myself checking my phone every ten minutes for the next hour and a half. I couldn’t remember what time V had said he was flying in, I’d thought he’d said “early”. My tingles of excitement were beginning to wane, as it remained silent, and I said to J that perhaps he’d already made other arrangements after I’d told him on Friday that Sunday was a “family day” and that I couldn’t possibly get away . . .

Then, just after 11, the text arrived. “Just here. Great news. Let yourself in. Wine in cooler.”

J was as excited as I was and stood by the door as I showered trying to whisper “suggestions” over the sound of the water. I let him dry me with the towel when I got out, asking him to reassure me that it really was alright, and loving his excited kisses and touches . . . and feeling his obvious excitement as well, through his jeans.

I was rushing through my make-up, asking J to book a cab as it would take 45 minutes to get there. He kissed my shoulders and said he’d drive me there himself. I felt myself blushing with excitement as I looked up at him and then I stood up and turned to kiss him . . . we stood embracing for several minutes, telling each other how much we loved each other and loved our life. It really was a wonderful moment, and difficult to describe in these words . . . and it still makes me feel so wonderful again as I describe it here . . . it was a tingling sexual moment, and yet it wasn’t just about the sexual tinglings. I felt (and feel again now), warm and wet, and just so happy and naughty and excited and . . . just so free . . . all rolled together. We kept kissing, me telling him how lucky I was, him telling me how lucky he was . . . it really was a special, special moment. One that I know I will remember long after I have forgotten so many of the “other things” we have experienced in all our years together. It may not sound that special, that extraordinary, here . . . but it was !!!

I chose my white silk stockings, suspenders and bra set (I decided I didn’t need the knickers) and silver earrings and necklace that S had brought me during the year, grey shoes and my grey wool coat. I folded the matching woollen dress into my bag . . . “for the journey home” I told J.

He told me I looked “incredible” and asked if I would unbutton the coat as we drove. I turned the heater up in the car as it was freezing as we set-off, but told him I would only unbutton it, and not slide it off my shoulders as he wanted me to, as we were driving through the city in broad daylight. I had to playfully keep pushing his hands away at each traffic light at first, and tell him to behave himself and concentrate on his driving.

We kissed again for several minutes in the car once we’d arrived, and as I stepped out into the cold and turned to wave goodbye through the windscreen, I felt just so wonderfully naughty . . . my husband had just dropped me off, in broad daylight, on a Sunday afternoon, at my lovers door. I was tingling as I stepped across the cobblestones, simply tingling !!!

I could tell from the music playing as I let myself in, that V had already arrived. He was sitting on the sofa in his robe and welcomed me with “that was good timing, I’ve just poured you a glass”. I laughed that it was the second time in as many weeks that he’d met me dressed only in his robe. He stood to kiss me and said, “I didn’t want to waste valuable time”. He offered me my glass, but I replied “wouldn’t you like to take my coat first?” His reaction as I took it off and handed it to him, made me even more tingly and excited. “You travelled all the way here like that?” he gasped. “You are incredible”.
I giggled “No J brought me silly”.
He gasped even louder. “Why didn’t you ask him to stay?”.
“What and wait downstairs in the car?” I teased.
“You could have invited him up to join us” he replied, half jokingly, but I could tell, half serious as well.
“No I’m not like that, I’m not into threesomes”, I told him as I accepted the wine and kissed him on the cheek.
He was kissing me back and running his hands down my back, saying. “I can’t believe there’s anything you wouldn’t do”.

We fell together onto the sofa, his kisses becoming more passionate as I pushed his robe off over his shoulders. He was reaching around behind me trying to undo my bra strap, but I pointed out it actually unclipped from the front . . . it felt simply lovely as the cups flicked open!!! He was moaning and murmuring as he sucked from nipple to nipple. “In English” I said back to him . . . the words sounded wonderful, but I couldn’t understand everything he was whispering to me.

He’d shaken his arms free of his robe and I was able to reach down between us and stroke him as he continued squeezing and sucking at me. “They’re standing up like bullets” he was saying as he sucked on my nipples. I squeezed his erection harder and tried to slide my other hand between us to feel under his sacs. I’d never felt so aroused, and so naughty, in any of my other times with him. He was already sliding the fingers of his free hand in between my legs and as I lifted them open wider his hand went right round under my bottom and then back to my pussy again. I squeezed my legs tightly onto his hand and pulled his head into my breasts, locking my arms around his back. I’d been there ten minutes and was coming already! V obviously hadn’t realised the effect his touches had had on me. He slid off the sofa and knelt down on the floor in front of me lifting my heels up onto the edge of the sofa and leant forward to start sliding his tongue down over me, licking and pushing at me with it. I had to pull him back up onto the sofa next to me. “Too quick, I want to look at you for a moment” I told him, as I slid down onto my knees taking the position he’d just been in.

“Magnificent, wonderful” I mimicked his accent, as I licked at him instead. He continued to try and pull me back by my arms onto the sofa for a few minutes, until he slowly succumbed to my sucking and licking. I was enjoying the position I’d found on the floor in front of him, able to look up at his thickness, slide my lips down over it and then lick my tongue up and down its length and down around his sacs. Eventually though I could tell from his renewed efforts at lifting me up that he wanted me back on the sofa. But then as I sat down beside him again, one hand still squeezed around him, he pulled away and stood up to gather up my coat and spread it out over the coffee table next to the sofa. I let him lift me up and then lay me down on top of my coat and then watched and started to swoon again as he lent forward rubbing himself over my pussy. “Slap me with it” I told him and then gasped and groaned as I felt the heaviness of it slapping against me. I reached down to open my lips and expose my clit more and heard myself swearing and moaning as he whacked against it for several slaps and then just pushed forward inside.

We stroked against each other, with V leaning back and holding me by my hips and exclaiming “what sights you give me”. I giggled back “let’s try another view” and pushed him back a little and tried to swivel my right leg around between us and turn round onto my knees. On the narrow table it was too difficult a manoeuvre to achieve without him coming out, but as I re-positioned myself and pushed back against him I felt him sliding into my pussy and resuming his strokes almost immediately. I was leaning forward, gripping the sides of the table . . . he was holding me by each hip, stroking faster and stronger now, and groaning quite loudly. I fell forward a little more, squashing myself onto my coat, and let go of one side of the table to slide my hand down between my legs trying to reach under us and feel his sacs as he was pushing and slapping into me. “Out” I gasped to him, meaning for him just to slow and pull out a little so that I could feel my fingers around it, but instead he cried out and pulled away completely and then thrust forward again sliding it over the small of my back and lifting up to grab my shoulders. I felt him spurting it out over my back and him gasping and groaning with each thrust. I lifted myself up into him more, as he continued to thrust and splash, and groan into my ear. “Not on my coat” I giggled back up at him, “I can feel it dribbling” I said, as his stroking stopped and he squashed into me.

He lifted off and sank back down onto the sofa. I stood up carefully and stood in front of him, smiling at the sight of him hunched back in the sofa holding onto himself with one hand, the other pushed down onto the cushion beside him. “This is when you normally offer to get me a towel” I giggled. I bent down to hand him his glass from the floor and then lifted my coat up off the table hanging it on the back of a chair as I walked into the kitchen to find a tea-towel. I returned to stand in front of him and turned around to ask “can you wipe it for me please, I can feel it running down between my suspender and my skin”. After he’d wiped me I turned round to face him again and pulled off my suspender and stockings telling him “you seem to have lots lately, have you changed your diet or something?” He laughed that it was “you are to blame for making me so relaxed to spend like that”. I giggled at his choice of explanation and cuddled up next to him with my own glass which I’d hardly touched. We talked about his trips since our last meeting, and his appointments in Canada . . . I explained our family routine at Christmas.

“How long have we got?” I asked him after we’d been talking long enough for us both to have emptied our glasses. He said he was flying out at 7 p.m. so we had time for more wine! I got up to bring the bottle from the kitchen and stood in front of him topping up each glass as he held them out, one in each hand. I pulled the bottle away towards me as I slowly poured and he slowly followed, kneeling down off the sofa onto the floor as I teasingly edged backwards away from him. He was kneeling directly in front of me now. I finished pouring and stepped forward into him . . . he lifted his face up to lick at me. I turned away for a moment to reach over and place the bottle onto the coffee table. He moved to follow to put the glasses down, but I pushed myself back into him. “Hold them for a moment” I said. I opened my legs wider and stepped over him further, moaning encouragement to him as his tongue worked up and around and in-between my lips. I reached forward to hold each of his shoulders, standing directly over him now whilst his tongue continued its explorations. “I like having you in this position” I told him . . . (Aetna) . . . I tried lifting myself up and backwards further, gripping his shoulders, trying to see if he would let me direct his tongue further around me, but each time he would swivel back to my pussy again. I stood back and let him stand up and start to set the glasses down next to the bottle, but I said “take me to lie down for awhile”. I picked up the bottle and led him down the corridor to his bedroom.

He apologised that the cleaners didn’t come until the beginning of the week . . . the bed was still unmade from when he’d obviously left for his last trip. “And I thought you were such a meticulously tidy, organised, man” I lay back and accepted my glass and then gasped with delight as he leant forward after taking a sip of his own wine and sucking my nipple into the cold of his mouth, letting the liquid swirl around before sucking and swallowing at the same time. “I don’t know where you’ve been learning things like that” I giggled and offered him my other breast so that he could repeat the process. He protested that I was going to make him too drunk to be allowed onto his flight. I was feeling ever more aroused and moaning louder as he slid down my tummy to start licking at me again. “Fingers” . . . I reached for his hand and licked over and sucked on all four and pushed his hand down to where I wanted, and needed, him to be. I could hear myself urging him on and feel myself tightening on him and then bucking my hips up against him. We were thrusting and pushing against each other, him holding my leg with one hand and pushing and thrusting with the other, me thrusting my hips up and down off the bed and gasping “yes, faster”.

When it came I was holding his head in both hands and rolled over on my side gasping and groaning and squeezing my legs tightly around his arm, crying out as he extricated himself and let me flop down on my tummy. I heard him gasping suddenly as well, and lifted my head from the pillow to look back at him kneeling beside me, holding onto himself . . . and then felt him splashing again over my bottom and back. He collapsed down beside me and we lay together breathing heavily for a few minutes until I had to roll over onto my back and dry myself against the sheets. He cuddled into me telling me how amazing all this was. We lay for sometime, recovering our senses before slowly agreeing that it was time for him to be getting up and preparing for his trip.

I made coffee whilst he showered again. He wandered around the corridor and front room and back and forth to the bedroom, gathering things up, and still completely naked. I told him I enjoyed watching him walk around nude. He complained that I now had more clothes on than when I’d arrived (I’d slipped on the dress I’d brought with me in my bag, whilst he’d showered). I helped him unpack, and repack, his suitcase as he began to worry that he was going to be late. I reminded him that he didn’t have to worry about queuing for check-in like the rest of us (he flies Executive Class!!), but he was still anxious to order his cab. I asked him if I could share the cab with him to see him off, as it would be easy for me to get a cab home from Heathrow. He got so excited at that suggestion that he started wanting to kiss and cuddle again . . . but I reminded him of the time . . .

I texted J from the taxi to tell him that I “was on my way to the airport with V, but don’t worry I am coming home!” He texted back just a few minutes later to say he’d come and pick me up and told me to text him the Terminal and what time I wanted him there. I decided to call him back . . . I kept ignoring his first question about had I enjoyed the afternoon, (looking blushingly at V and wondering if he could hear J’s voice on the phone) and telling him that if he really wanted to pick me up he should set-off straight away as I was only going to wait until V had gone through into the departure lounge. Eventually I had to say “yes I’ve had a lovely time thank you” before agreeing to his suggestion that he actually park in the terminal carpark rather than trying to pick me up from just outside the terminal building.

As I ended my call, V was holding my hand and shaking his head saying “this is a remarkable situation”. I knew what he meant, accepting his kiss on the cheek, and glancing up at the mirror to see if the driver was looking back at us. I was tingling again!!!

We actually arrived in plenty of time and decided to have another coffee, talking more about our relationship(s) and “remarkable situation”. I excused myself to the toilets to “freshen-up for a minute before we say goodbye”, and then as we stood kissing before the entrance to the departure lounge I opened my bag to let him see my folded-up dress. “As I’ll have my own private cab home!” I giggled. We stood kissing, him holding me quite tightly and rubbing his hands over my coat over my bottom and whispering his appreciation for my spending such a wonderful few hours with him. I told him he was getting too emotional. “Airport farewells” I told him. We exchanged final kisses and wishes for Christmas and New Year . . . I saw him glancing back through the doors, we waved again . . . and he was gone.

I suddenly felt rather exposed, as I sat waiting for J to call. Sitting in Heathrow Airport, naked beneath my coat, with two policeman passing just yards away. What was I doing? I’d let myself get so carried away in wanting to impress and shock and tease V . . . this was so stupid, so silly. I texted J “where are you?” Minutes passed. I reached for my bag and headed for the toilets . . . my phone rang . . . I’d been holding it in my hand . . . it was J.

We sat in the car for half an hour, my tingles had returned, and I let J cuddle me under my coat as I told him how I’d felt as I walked away from the car when he’d dropped me off, and about “our coffee table” and V parading around after his shower. My tingles were turning to throbbings . . . J said that both the children would “still be out” . . . and I exclaimed “well get me home then!”.

Now it was dark as we drove along the North Circular . . . J knew how I had recently returned from an evening with S in his car, along this same road . . . I let him slip my coat down off my shoulders, pulling it up again as we got to each traffic light, only for him to beg that I slide it down again. My nipples were so tight and hard they felt as though they would burst.

We have had the most wonderful week !!! I can’t remember ever having felt so naughty, so free, or so much wanting to be together, as we have over the past week. I forwarded the three texts I’ve had from V, straight onto J as soon as I received them during the day, instead of waiting until the evening when we were both at home. We’ve relived the car journey to, and from, my afternoon . . . we’ve relived how I felt as I walked from the car to V’s door . . . our coffee table . . . those four fingers . . . my cab journey with V to the airport . . . and, as I keep telling J, those wonderful kisses that we’d shared when he told me he’d drive me down to the apartment.

Such wonderful, wonderful times.

Best wishes - Edith