Sleeping Over with M

Thank you Sally and Cheril for your emails. Yes I do realise I am so lucky to have a husband like J, and yes it was wonderful fun . . . Here’s what happened.

M had arranged for a taxi to pick me up from my office at 6.30. I’d packed a small overnight bag and re-did my make-up and changed my panties, blouse and shoes before the cab arrived. I was a little nervous about going to his flat, but curious to see what it was like and, of course, a little tingly-excited as well.

It was obviously a new apartment development down a little mews, just across the river (and no Sally I can’t tell you where). The entry-phone system was one of those confusing button configurations, but eventually his voice welcomed me through the speakers and the doors opened. He’d already told me what floor and his head was poking around an open door just diagonally across from the lift. He welcomed me with a passionate embrace as he ushered me in. Dressed only in a robe, it was obvious why he couldn’t have met me downstairs.

The apartment was wonderful, spacious and modern. All very open plan, a huge L-shaped dark brown leather sofa, low coffee tables, hanging lights and all very tastefully decorated. It was immediately apparent this was just a two-person living room, no family/children type clutter at all.

He took my coat and led me around the corner directly into a wonderfully modern kitchen. All marble worktops with a central island preparation area. He explained the meal he’d already started preparing for us whilst pouring a first class of wine. We sipped and kissed again and then he surprised me slightly by saying “I thought you might like to freshen-up so I’ve run you a bath. You can soak whilst I finish the food”. He led me down the corridor to the bathroom, again all wonderfully modern and marbled with a large corner-shaped bath, already full with bubbles. I felt strangely uncomfortable as he helped me undress, it seemed like I’d only just come through the door and here I was stepping naked into a hot bath. So hot in fact that I had to step one foot out again, protesting it was far too hot to sit down in. He laughed and ran more cold water. I could see he had an erection poking out from the robe though . . . so I felt a little more confident as I slid into the water. He passed me my wine and I teased that the bath seemed big enough for him to join me, but he said he’d already showered and was going to go back to the kitchen and finish cooking. He was stroking my back and then sliding his hands round to my breasts though . . . and I closed my eyes and lay further back against the curve of the bath feeling much more at ease now, and beginning to feel quite aroused. He continued playing with me and as he could tell I was enjoying it he slid his hands further down my tummy. I opened my legs and he was immediately slipping his fingers over my lips and then straight inside me. I was telling him how nice it was and felt myself creating little waves as I pushed back and forth in time with his fingers. I was really aroused but knew it wasn’t comfortable enough to really relax and let myself go. “I want to get out now” I pouted, even though I knew I’d only been in the water a matter of minutes.

He pulled me up and out and wrapped a large white robe around me, rubbing it around over my back and shoulders to dry me off. We were embracing again and I could feel his erection prodding me as we kissed. “Let’s go into the living room” he said, and led me out into the corridor again but this time in an opposite direction from the kitchen which we’d previously come from. The corridor ran like a circle around the main living area and we were back at the sofa again. As we sank down onto the sofa he remembered we’d left the wine in the bathroom. As he disappeared to retrieve the glasses I lifted open the robe feeling wonderfully terribly naughty that it probably belonged to his partner. I was feeling really turned-on now, and slid my fingers down to play with myself, spreading my legs so that he had the full effect as he turned the corner with a glass in each hand. I know how much J enjoys watching me play with myself and I could tell it had the same affect on M. He placed both glasses on the table and then knelt down in front of me. I spread my lips with my fingers so he could see exactly where I wanted to be kissed. His tongue lapped deliciously around my clit . . . and I lifted his hands up so that his palms rubbed across my nipples. Then he lifted up to start sucking at my nipples and slid his hands under my bum to lift me forward on the sofa. I pushed his robe off his shoulders and lifted my legs up around his back as he slid his cock inside me. He began stroking inside me, slowly at first but then getting faster and more aggressive. I don’t usually come from just being pumped like this but I was really, really aroused. Here I was on his sofa, wrapped in his partners robe, being fucked like one of J’s blue-movies. I felt myself coming and heard myself gasping and urging him on as he fucked me faster and faster. I just suddenly came with wonderful shudders and pulled myself from under him, rolling over onto my side apologising for being so quick as I curled-up into a corner of the sofa.

He lay with me for a few minutes before getting up and wrapping the edges of the robe back around me. He walked back to the table and then returned to the sofa with my glass of wine. I like looking at a mans body, he was still hard and his cock swayed as he walked. I was enjoying the sensations of having just come, but also the satisfaction that I was the reason for his hardness. I stroked his cock as he stood in front of me. He was asking me if I was hungry yet as he handed me the glass, but I just kept stroking him with one hand whilst I took the glass with the other. I sat up to take a gulp of the wine and then leant forward and sucked my mouth over his cock, swilling the wine around his shaft as I swallowed at the same time. He stiffened and gasped and then rocked back a little as I sucked down on him again. I blindly reached down to place the glass on the floor and then pulled him into me so that he was standing directly in front of me as I sucked up and down on him. He was starting to pump back and forwards into my mouth now and I cupped my hands around his bum cheeks holding him firmly as he pumped. He was fucking my mouth now almost as fiercely as he had been pumping into me before. On some of the strokes I was almost choking but then I could hear him crying out he was going to come. I pulled my face away and then knelt up on my knees pulling him into my boobs as he exploded. He grasped my shoulders as he spurted all over my boobs and neck and up into my hair. As he sank back onto the sofa he said “nobody’s ever done that to me with wine before”. I was giggling as I mopped his come off me. “How are you going to explain all these crusty bits on her robe?” I asked. I was disappointed when he told me it was actually one of his and not hers at all. He offered to get me one of her robes or clothing but the thrill had gone for the moment and I declined saying “it wouldn’t be nice really” . . . feelings of guilt momentarily spoiling the naughtiness I’d felt moments earlier.

We lounged on the sofa sipping at wine and listening to his music. He took great delight in explaining how he could hook-up his ipod into his sound-system and have it playing in all the rooms at the same time. “Even the bedroom?” I teased. “Yes, of course, would you like to see”. I was dying to see the rest of the apartment actually but trying to display an element of dignity I giggled “I’m quite enjoying the sofa actually”.

After we’d both recovered our energy he decided it was time to display his cooking expertise so we moved to the kitchen. I topped-up the wine and marvelled at the novelty of having a man prepare me a meal for once. (J later complained that I always criticised any of his attempts in the kitchen). After several more glasses of wine, and the excitement of our “entree” (and I’m into my second glass of wine as I type this), I have to say that I really enjoyed both the food and the occasion. We sat and ate, talked and laughed about the fact that all the lights were full-on, we hadn’t lit the candles that he’d artfully placed on the table, and he’d forgotten to serve up the mixed salad he’d prepared before I’d arrived.

We returned to the sofa with a new bottle of wine and more kisses and caresses. I was telling him how firm and lovely his body was, he was telling me how soft and smooth mine was . . . and then we were suddenly in his (or their) bedroom. I don’t even remember which direction we’d taken down the corridor to get there, but I do remember enjoying the feeling of naughtiness and the triumph of pushing him back on his bed. When I’d first started my affair with S, I’d refused to go into his and his wife’s bedroom for at least a year, I’d felt guilty / ashamed / scared . . . yet here I was completely the opposite. Perhaps because he was younger than me, perhaps because he’d always been the confident, pushy one in our brief relationship, perhaps just because of the decor of the whole apartment, I suddenly felt like I wanted to be the dominant aggressive one. He was hard again, and I was sucking down on his cock. It felt really smooth and somehow stiffer than I’d remembered it before. I was scraping my teeth gently over his shaft and the head and playing with his balls with my fingers. I lifted myself up to sit on him, lifting myself up and down slowly so that he could see my pussy lifting up to the tip of his head and then sliding down engulfing him completely inside me. I was completely in control now, pushing down on his chest with my hands and swivelling from side to side so that my boobs wobbled as I kept sliding up and down on him. He asked me to turn round and face his feet so that he could see my bum pumping up and down on him, so I rather awkwardly lifted my legs around and over him trying to keep his cock inside me whilst I turned around on him. I sank back down on him and started pumping again as I reached down and held onto his ankles. I could look down and see myself squashing down onto his balls and then lifting up again. But after a couple of minutes of this position I began to feel my enjoyment wane, especially as he was trying to reach forwards and probe my bumhole with his finger. I occasionally enjoy S playing with my bum, but not in this position, and anyway I didn’t want it there tonight. I wanted to regain my control so turned back to kiss him and lay down across his chest sucking and playing with him again. He was pleading with me to let him lick my pussy again though so I lifted up and slid myself forwards onto his chest. I had my legs either side of his head and as he lifted up with his tongue I leant forward and parted my pussy lips again as I had on the sofa earlier. I was getting myself quite carried away, lifting my hips up and forward so that his tongue was flicking all around me, even around my bum that he’d been trying to finger before. I was feeling really naughty (and I’m feeling that way again now), pushing myself down on his face and whispering “taste me”. I was trying to reach behind me and stroke his cock whilst still trying to balance myself over his mouth and tongue . . . and then I felt him coming as he was thrusting his hips and arching his back and gasping for breath beneath me. I rolled off him and then twisted round so that I was lying beside him. He was still shuddering and I felt the stickiness of his come on my side and leg. I was so worked up that I played myself to a come as well, rolling over to cuddle into him at his side.

We were woken by his alarm in the morning . . . too late to indulge in each other any further (much to J’s annoyance as he’d wanted to hear of me being naughtier still !). We were both strangely quite though as we rushed to get dressed while M called a taxi to take us into work. Him apologising because he’d wanted to make me breakfast, me frantically trying to arrange fresh make-up, smooth out a skirt and blouse from my unpacked overnight bag and gather up all last nights clothing from his bathroom floor. We giggled and held hands in the back of the taxi. He whispered “fantastic, incredible” as the taxi dropped me off two streets from my office (just in case one of the girls was arriving late-in as well). I waved goodbye and then texted J as I walked around the corner to the office. I felt naughty, wonderful, fulfilled, happy and naughty still as I signed-off my message to J with “slept in with M, no time for breakfast(s), wine tonight please, at least no work tomorrow !!”